The Lost Heir
by ChaoticHunter13
Summary: Jon is born to Ned Stark and Ashara Dayne several years before the Tourney at Harrenhal. He grows up in Winterfell surrounded by his family, but when his father marries Catelyn Tully after the death of his mother certain events lead to Jon joining the Company of the Roses. Now he is back in the North ready to claim what is owed to him and make the North a true superpower. Pls R&R
1. Prologue: Eddard I

**A/N: This is my first story. I've had the idea written down for quite a while and finally decided to publish it. Please make sure to leave a review and if you like it don't forget to follow and faviourite.**

 **p.s please no flames**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice & Fire or any related works**

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 **Eddard Stark:**

 **274 AC**

Ned was in the training yard practising his sword forms and sparring against one of the many straw mannequins Jon Arryn kept in the Eyrie. Near by, he could hear the heavy thumps of Robert's war hammer hitting the hardened wood shield carried by the knight, sworn to house Arryn, who was unfortunate enough to be chosen as Robert's training dummy for the day's session.

"Robert, ease up on the man. He'll have a few shattered bones by the time you're finished with him at the rate you are going!" Ned shouted over the loud noises of various swords and other weapons clanging against each other.

Robert let out a belching laugh. "The man's an anointed knight Ned! He should be able to take it with ease!" The knight let out a soft whimper that was nearly lost to Ned over his best friend's boisterous laughter.

"The lad is right Robert, the man looks like he couldn't go another round with a child, never mind a hulking lording as yourself." A commanding voice called out from above them. Ned looked up to see the mirth filled face of Jon Arryn. The Lord of the Vale was a man that commanded respect and authority, he was a stern faced but loving and caring man, that came to be a second father to both Stark and Baratheon boys.

Jon had been fostering the two young lords for eight years now and had imparted on both of them lessons on combat, ruling and teaching all of noble birth learnt. If there was one thing Ned took to heart from the old lord it was his teaching on honour, Ned had really taken a liking to the words of House Arryn 'As High as Honour'. There were so many negatives in Westeros that Ned believed if he was able to stay true and Honourable during his life, he would die a happy man.

Jon's voice broke Ned out of his musings, "Ned, two letter have arrived bearing the Stark seal, one for you and one for me, come by my solar once you boys have finished with your lessons so we may see what your father has written."

Ned nodded to him and once again returned to his training, but this time deep in thought. 'I wonder what father has written, is it just a letter asking about my progress, or is he recalling me to Winterfell…I do miss my sibling, but if I am to leave I will miss Robert and Lord Arryn. They have truly been good to me.' Ned continued hacking at the training dummy deep in though, unknown to the fact the moment he opened up his father's letter his life would change forever.

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After bathing and cleaning up, Ned made his way to Jon's solar, ready to read the letter from his father. Deep in thought, he made his way through the castle until he arrived at the door to the lord of the Vale's solar. He knocked on the wooden door several times before he heard the deep voice of the presiding lord call out for him to enter.

"My lord, I have come to collect the letter from my father." As he stated this, Jon reached into the a pile of papers collected on the hardwood desk and pulled out a scroll sealed with the direwolf seal of the Starks. Taking the scroll from Jon's outstretched hand, Ned broke the seal and unfurled the scroll reading aloud the contents of the letter.

 _Eddard Stark,_

 _My son, I have received the letter from Lord Arryn, pertaining to your studies and am proud to see you are flourishing under his tutelage. I have written to inform you, that as you are approaching ten and six namedays it is past time for you to find a bride. I have brokered a deal with the Lord Dayne of Starfell and have agreed to see you married to his daughter Ashara Dayne. As you receive this letter, she will be making her way to Winterfell where the two of you will meet and wed. I have commenced the reconstruction of Moat Cailin, which when completed, you will rule over and use to serve your brother as a loyal Bannerman once he becomes Lord of Winterfell. For the time being, you are to return home and wed the Lady Ashara three moons after she arrives._

 _Lord Rickard Stark,_

 _Lord of Winterfell,_

 _Lord Paramount of the North & Warden of the North_

As he read this Ned could not help but feel both excitement and trepidation at what he had just discovered. He would be leaving for Winterfell, and would soon see Brandon, Lyanna and Benjen but he would also meet the Lady Ashara for the first time before they wed. He had heard whispers of her beauty throughout the time he spent in the Vale and was anxious as to whether she would settle for a second son and whether their marriage would be a happy one.

Jon must have sensed his nervousness, because he set one of his large callous hands on Ned's shoulder comforting him. "It will be alright lad, you will make a fine husband and an excellent lord. Now, go tell Robert the news and the both of you pack your belongings. Both of you will leave for Winterfell at first light with a host of my finest knights to escort you."

"My lord, will you not be accompanying us?" Ned asked with a hint of sadness in his tone.

"Do not worry Ned, I will be there for the wedding, but before that there are certain matters that need to be attended to before I can leave the Vale. You lads go on ahead and I will see you in a few moons."

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They had been travelling for what seemed to be weeks, crossing the Mountains of the Moons and the Bite, until they had reached the snow covered lands of winter. Ned knew that he was home when he spotted the many buildings that made up Wintertown. His father must have pushed the extension of Winterfell further forward than Ned could have ever expected. He could see a new outer wall that had enveloped the entirety of the old Wintertown and beyond, adding land for new barracks and houses to be added. There was now an entire new city bustling with citizens trading goods from what looked to be from all over Westeros as well as the Free Cities. Ned was truly amazed, in the eight years he had spent away fostering in the Vale, his father had transformed Winterfell and the surrounding city into what would one day be one of the largest settlements in Westeros.

"By the gods Ned! You said that although Winterfell was a sight to see, the surrounding area wasn't much." Robert's voice rang out.

"I know, but never could I have imagined my father would expand in such a short amount of time." He replied "Winterfell really has changed"

As the group rode through the streets of Wintertown Ned greeted the increasing number of townsfolk; winter was nearly upon them and so multitudes of people had flocked to the safety the Lord of the North offered.

The greatest shock came to Ned when the group approached the gates to Winterfell itself. Where the east gate once stood was now a massive iron reinforced hardwood gate that looked as though it could withstand any siege. Flanking either side of the entrance stood granite statues of the finest quality and detail Ned and the others had ever scene.

Both statues stood ten feet tall and resembled Stark men with long faces, a lean build and other similar features common to his family. Situated on the heads of the statues were the crowns of the Kings of Winter Ned had seen in the crypts below Winterfell. The crown was an open circlet of hammered bronze incised with runes of the First Men, surmounted by nine black iron spikes in the shape of longswords. Each of the stone med carried an iron sword and were accompanied by a wolf so large, Ned could only justify them being direwolves.

As they entered through the gate and over the drawbridge, Ned noticed another statue flanked by a direwolf, but this one was different, it stood at fifteen feet tall and somewhat resembled the other statues except this one carried a long handled double bladed war axe. The axe looked to be made from one material and was completely covered in runes from the old tongue.

But what really gave away the identity of the statue was the massive work hammer that hung from the waist of the ancient Stark.

"Bran the Builder" Ned let out softly.

Next to him, Robert adopted a confused expression. "Ned what did you say? Speak up!"

This time Ned spoke audibly, "Brandon the Builder, he is my ancestor, believed to be the founder of House Stark and the first King of Winter."

As Ned continued to explain to his friend and surrounding Valemen, the more unknown history behind his ancient ancestor, he noticed out of the corner of a small blur racing towards him.

Just as he turned, a small figure collided with him, shouting out in a high pitched voice;

"Ned!"

"Lya, little sister, I have missed you terribly." He replied in a soft voice.

Ned looked down at his sister, she had grown since he had last seen her. When he had left for the Vale Lyanna had only been three years of age, but now she looked much bigger. She had always been a small child and still was, but Ned could see she had grown up.

Just as those thoughts came to him, Lyanna had started loudly asking him multitudes of questions, on how his journey was, if he was excited to be wed and whether he would be staying in Winterfell once more.

Ned chuckled internally, 'she truly did inherit the wolf blood, just like Brandon.'

As he was about to calm his little sister down, a deep stern voice rang out around the courtyard,

"Lyanna!"

Ned looked up to see his father, the stern but loving Lord Rickard Stark, standing with the rest of his siblings and the household.

He had been so mesmerised by the new additions to his home he did not notice his family had been standing there ready to receive him and his guests.

"Father" he called out as he walked in front of the Lord of Winterfell and bowed before him in a sign of respect.

Before he knew it, Ned had been pulled into a tight embrace with his father, Rickard's hand holding his head as he planted his lips to his son's head.

"My son, it is good to see you returned home." His father let out softly.

Ned simply responded by tightening his hold on his father. This was a side to his father rarely seen; the lord only ever displayed this affection to his wife and children. To the rest of the north, the old Stark was as stone faced and absolute in power as Tywin Lannister.

Once released from his father's embrace Ned to a moment to look over his elder and younger brothers. Brandon looked the same as usual, long dark hair and grey eyes that shone with mischief and energy.

"Brother" he called out as he embraced Brandon, "it truly is good to see you once again."

Brandon had been the one Ned had not seen for the longest amount of time, he too had been sent away to foster with another house, House Dustin, when he was eight namedays.

"Ned, still so serious I see." Brandon laughed out, "look at you, all grown up, hopefully your time in the Vale loosened you up little brother."

Ned just gave his brother a look of exasperation and a small smile. Brandon was always like that, they were born one year apart and yet he acted as though their difference in age was as large the North itself.

Next he moved over to Benjen. Squatting down to his little brothers level, Ned placed his hand upon Benjen's head and ruffled his dark hair.

"How big you have grown little brother, when I left you were but a babe at mother's teat"

With this Ned pulled Benjen into a tight embrace, all the while, his youngest sibling gazed up at him in wonder and excitement. Because Ned had left for the Vale when Benjen and Lyanna were still but babes, they did not clearly remember his face but had been sending him ravens from Winterfell from as soon as they could write and read.

As the rest of the household dispersed Ned lifted his head up and gazed into his father's eyes,

"Mother?" He asked quietly

"She is not doing well son, the maester has restricted her to her chambers, her body to weak to move from the bed" his father replied solemnly.

Ned sighed sadly, moons ago a raven had arrived from Winterfell informing Ned of his mother's deterioration in health, it was not good to hear that she was still so frail. Clearing his mind and promising himself to go see his mother immediately, Ned lifted himself up to stand before his family and made his way towards his mother's chambers, but before he left he introduced Robert and the rest of the Valemen that had travelled with them, his father organising for one of the servants to show them to their quarters.

After some time traversing the ancient castle, Ned happened upon his mother's chambers. Knocking softly he entered to the sight of his mother's frail form tightly tucked under her furs.

Walking over to her side Ned softly grabbed her hand and planted his lips upon her head.

"Mother" he whispered softly in anguish.

To see the woman who would run around and play with her children when they were younger, looking so sickly broke Ned's heart.

She must have read his expression because he softly heard her say, "Do not worry sweet child, I may feel weak and frail but mother can feel her energy slowly returning."

Ned spent the remainder of the day sitting by his mother's side regaling her with tales of his time in the Vale with Lord Arryn and Robert.

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Day past with Ned catching up lost time with his family and showing Robert all the different areas of his home. Some parts he hardly recognised by how much his father had added onto the great keep, and some areas were cleaned up and repaired such as the broken tower. When Ned had ventured into the crypts playing with Benjen and Lyanna, he had noticed that his father had cleared out the lower levels of the debris and gossip around Winterfell was that the men had almost reached the lowest chamber.

It was around midday when the guards came to inform them that purple banners depicting a star and a sword could be seen on the horizon.

Ned had rushed to clean up in order to receive his intended and her family looking proper and worthy to receive who many people considered one of the most beautiful women in The Seven Kingdoms.

He was standing next to his Brandon and his father when he first caught a glance of the Dayne's processing in through the northern gate gazing around in wander at the sights before them.

The first to ride up to the Starks was Lord Dayne, who dismounted his horse and walked forward to stand in front of the lord of Winterfell.

"Lord Dayne, a pleasure to receive you, I hope the journey from Starfall was not perilous?"

"No Lord Stark, it was long and different to anything I've ever seen but it was refreshing to have the opportunity to come and see the North."

The two lords continued small talk while the rest of the Dayne household travelling with their liege lord dismounted and greeted the Stark family.

When Ashara descended from her carriage Ned could honestly say that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She looked to be the same age as himself, maybe younger. She was tall, with long dark hair that cascaded down her shoulders and eyes that were the perfect shade of violet.

Ned had not realised that he had been staring until Brandon nudged him with a lecherous grin on his face. He looked to his brother and gave him a hard cold look, as if to say, don't you dare try to make her one of your so called accomplishments.

She made her way over to the Starks, escorted by someone who looked to be her brother. Ned knew this man had to be Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning; though he wondered how he was able to be here as he was bound to the Kingsguard.

Eventually they made their way over and when Ashara spoke it was like hearing the sweetest melody; "my lord, a pleasure to meet you"

"The pleasure is mine Lady Ashara, truly tales of your beauty do not do you justice."

Ned continued to talk with his betrothed of her journey from Kings Landing where she had , up until now, served as a lady in waiting for Princess Elia. This woman was elegant in every way and Ned started to doubt whether he would be good enough for her. All he knew that was he would try his hardest to prove to her that he was worthy of her love.

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Two moons had passed and it was finally time for Ned to be wed. During the wait for the wedding Ned had gotten to know Ashara and he was not shamed to admit that he had started to fall in love with her. At first it had started out tense and uncomfortable, they were both being forced into a marriage with someone that they had never met, but over time they learnt to enjoy each others company.

They had often gone on walks through the Godswood for hours a day, talking to each other, learning of their lives and simply basking in each others presence. At night they would lay underneath the Weirdwood tree staring up at the stars and listening to natures call.

As Ashara was marrying into the Stark family it was agreed that the marriage would occur in front of the Heart Tree.

Ned was standing in the Godswood under the Heart Tree with his Family, Robert, Jon and other northern lords and ladies his father had invited to spectate the day one of the sons of Winterfell was to be wed. Standing opposite the Stark family were the Dayne's, although they seemed uncomfortable and out of place, Ned could see that they were accepting of Northern and First Men traditions, after all the Dayne's were descendants of First Men and Andals unlike other houses.

He was nervous, because although he had resigned himself with the fact that he would one day marry, the fact that it was now about to happen scared him.

Ned calmed his nervous and took a deep breathe, when he finally saw Ashara being led towards him by her father. She looked stunning, her dark locks flowing down her back in soft dark waves. Her dress was an elegant pearl white with specks of amethyst purple spread throughout it. A soft white fur was spread around her keeping her warm in the cold northern climate, and her purple maidens cloak with the Dayne sigil clear to see clasped around her shoulders.

Ned looked to her face and could see her violet eyes sparkling and a bright smile plastered on her face as she made eye contact with him. She truly was a great beauty.

As she stepped up Ashara's father placed her hands in Ned's, placed a kiss on her brow and stepped back to allow the ceremony to begin.

Rickard had decided he would officiate, and with a loud voice he stated; "who comes before the Gods?"

"Ashara of House Dayne, a woman grown and flowered comes before the Gods seeking their favour" Lord Dayne responded.

"And who claims her?"

"I Eddard of House Stark claim her" he stated in a powerful voice.

"Lady Ashara" Rickard said. "Do you takes this man?"

"Yes" Ashara stated. "I take this man"

"And do you Eddard of the House Stark take this woman and pledge to honour her and provide for her until the end of your days?"

"Aye, I swear it" Ned replied.

Rickard nodded and with a smile stated. "Then you may cloak the bride under your protection."

Giving Ashara a smile Ned unclasped her cloak handed it to her father and received a new one from Brandon. This cloak decorated with the sigil of House Star, the mighty direwolf. Gently pulling the cloak around her shoulders he clasped it at the neck with a silver brooch in the shape of a direwolf with purple amethyst for eyes made specifically for this occasion. With one hand gently rested on the back of her head, his forehead pressed against hers as gazed deeply into her violet eyes, "With this kiss, I pledge my undying love." He said before pressing his lips gently upon her own.

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 **275 AC**

Ned was pacing outside of one of the many rooms in Winterfell, cringing every time he heard the screams of pain resonating from his wife. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore and retreated to the solitude of the Godswood. Every time Ned needed to calm his mind and nerves he would sit under the Heart Tree cleaning and sharpening his blade.

His father had taken his siblings on a round to visit all of his Bannerman, and would be gone for a minimum of two moons. He had left Ned in charge of ruling Winterfell in his stead, hoping his son would gain experience for when he would one day rule Moat Cailin. With Robert gone back to Storms End and Jon back in the Eyrie Ned only had the new maester and his mother to help rule.

Ned had sat on the rock in praying to the old gods to safely deliver his child into the world and keep his loving wife safe and healthy. He was there undisturbed for what seemed like hours before one of the household guards rushed into the clearing delivering the news that the new maester, sent to replace maester Walys after his death, was looking for him and wanted Ned to meet him outside.

Ned rushed out of the Godswood sprinting through the hallways until he could see the man that was looking for him.

"Maester Luwin, how is Ashara? Is the baby…"

Gently the middle aged maester cut him off. "Worry not my lord, Lady Ashara is weak but she will recover. As for the baby my lord, it is strong and healthy."

Ned let out a sigh of relief and entered the birthing chamber with the maester. There he saw Ashara laying on the bed holding a babe to her chest, while handmaidens ran about cleaning up the mess and disposing of the bloodied sheets.

Walking up to his wife, Ned leaned down and gently planted a kiss on her lips.

"Ash" he said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright my love, a bit weak but I shall recover." She responded. "Here, see your son."

Ned took the babe from her arms and held him gently in the crook of his arm. Just looking at his son he could see the beginning of Stark features, the long face and dark hair among others.

"I know we haven't discussed it in length, but I was hoping we could name him Jon, after Lord Arryn." Ned said quietly, so as to not wake the child. "The man has done so much for me."

"A strong and good name my love." She responded in kind. "Our son, Jon, he will serve the north well, and I hope, will one day join the ranks of legendary figures, known not only in the north but throughout the seven kingdoms, just like his uncle and Stark ancestors.

Ned smiled at his wife and gently placed Jon in her arms; sitting bedside Ned sat vigil over his wife and son while they rested. He finally had a child of his own, and he would make sure that Jon knew how much his parents and family loved him. No matter what.

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 **280 AC**

Time had gone by so quickly, Ned could remember Jon's birth as though it were yesterday. His son had grown so much in the five years that had passed. Where he was once a small newborn not even able to do anything for himself, he was now a small child that was largely independent.

Ned was happy with the way Jon had started to grow up. He was surrounded by his family, where his uncles and aunts doted on him constantly, where his grandparents played with him whenever the opportunity arose, where his grandfather taught him the rich history of his house and his mother regaled him with tales of the great knights of House Dayne such as his uncle Arthur who he loved so much.

Jon had been born at the start of winter and had started growing up in a season that pushed even the strongest of men over the edge.

Looking at his son below in the training yard learning sword play from his Brandon, Ned could honestly say that Jon was the splitting image of a Stark, with the long face and dark brown almost black hair, except for one feature, his eyes. Jon had inherited his eyes from his mother, those vibrant violet eyes. He was proud to be a Stark, but he never forgot about his Dayne family either; Ned and Ashara had often taken Jon south to visit his uncle in Kings Landing as well as his maternal grandfather, uncle and baby aunt Allyria.

Gazing down at his son training with his uncle, Ned could see that Jon had obviously inherited his uncle Arthur's skills in blade dancing. Whenever someone of the household complimented Jon on his taking to sword play he would look up to them with a bright smile plastered on his face, let out a childish laugh and boldly say, "but of course, I'll be the first Stark to be the Sword of the Morning!"

Ned laughter every time he heard his young son claim this. Although Jon was a Dayne, he was first and foremost a Stark, and therefor would never wield Dawn unless he was the last Dayne from his grandfather's line. His cousins would always be given preference before him. But Jon would never let that stop him. His mother had instilled in him a burning desire to complete any task he put his mind to.

At times Ned felt jealous of the bond Jon shared with his mother. Although he and his son were extremely close, Ashara's bond with the child was unwavering and invisible. The boy would do anything for his mother, and all he did was to make sure his mother was happy.

Ned was pulled out of his thought when he felt his wife's presence next to him.

"Ash" he spoke as he planted a kiss on her lips. "Just look at him down there, his only five namedays and yet he is training as hard as possible. He wants to be just like his uncles."

Ashara let out a melodious laugh. "My sweet boy, he wants to be strong like his father one day and protect his family."

"Maester Luwin says his studies are going well, but I fear he is pushing himself to hard. He wants to learn all that he can. But he is only a child" Ashara spoke out in concern.

"I fear that to be mine and his aunty and uncles fault, not so much Ben, but Bran and Lya. We fill his head with tales of his ancestors and all their achievements. He's especially smitten with Brandon the Builder, claiming that he will be as great as our founder and build a monument so grand that the 'Starstarks', as Lyanna likes to call us, especially his beautiful mother, will never be forgotten." Ned finished with humour in his tone.

Ashara simply cooed as she looked down at her son.

Jon must have sensed what his parent were talking about because he looked up and saw his mother cooing at him because he ducked his head, face scarlet red.

Brandon used the situation to hit his nephew over the head with the wooden training swords they were using. Jon looked up at his uncle and started chasing him around the training yard weaving through the men that the master of arms, Martyn Cassel, was training.

Ned was about to shout out for Jon to stop when Lyanna swooped in, grappled his son and ran out of the yard laughing. He smiled at the disappearing sight of the aunt and nephew. It was a common game that Lyanna had started playing with him; she would swoop in and grab him before putting him somewhere around Winterfell, then she would go and hide. Jon then had to find his aunt before he was called for his next lesson.

Ned had been putting his son to bed when Jon had boasted that he had explored the whole of Winterfell and knew every hiding spot there was. Ned had laughed joyfully with his son and had ended up sleeping in his room where Jon had told him of all his different hiding spots and the quickest routes to get there.

Ned was brought out of his reminiscing when Ashara pulled his arm, linking their hands and started walking, reminding him that they needed to do their daily ritual before their evening meal. He simply smiled and allowed himself to be guided along by his wife.

They eventually reached their destination and Ned got himself comfortable underneath the Heart Tree, Ashara sitting in his lap, her back leaning against his chest.

"The Moat is almost completely repaired, the keep and the walls have been finished, but father says that the towers still require a lot of work. Father says we won't move until the entire fortress is restored."

"That's good, Winterfell is home now, it would be a shame to leave it so soon. Jon doesn't have very many friends his age, he mostly runs around with your siblings and the guards." She replied. "I know it is asking much, but would you ask your father to allow us a few more years in Winterfell, just so that Jon doesn't get lonely?"

"Of course Ash! Father is a stern and strict person but he'll cave to anything if it has to do with his grandson." Ned finished with a laugh.

"One mor thing Ned, I want to give Jon something for doing well in his studies and lessons. Would you mind getting a replica of my broach made for him, so that he can always remember he is a star of House Dayne as well as a Direwolf of House Stark?

"I'll go down to the blacksmith on the morrow and request that he make the exact same broach." Ned replied.

For the next few hours the two spoke lovingly to each other of multitudes of things. Eventually the sun had set and left the sky black cleared of all clouds. It was nights like this that Ned really loved spending time with his wife. Ashara shone with beauty under the stars even more than she usually did. They would sit there, Ashara telling him of the different constellations and what they meant, where they lead and everything she had learnt growing up in Starfall.

They were whispering to each other, Ned laying kisses down her neck, when they heard the patter of feet on earth and a shout, "Mother! Father! Grandfather said it's time for sup. Hurry or uncle Bran is gonna each everything."

Just as he finished speaking Jon entered into the clearing with a cheshire grin on his face.

"Mother! Father! Come on" he whined impatiently.

Ned and Ashara simply laughed, grabbed his hands and allowed themselves to be dragged to the great hall by their son of five.

Once they had all settled in for their meal, Ned allowed himself to look over his family. Even though it wasn't complete, with his mother's passing one year back, they looked happy. He was seated to the left of his father with Brandon on the other side talking to Martyn Cassel, Ashara sat to his left with Lyanna, Benjen and Jon huddled up secretly whispering and giggling to each other.

Ned had been speaking to his wife when his father tapped his shoulder to get his attention and whispered to him; "Jon came to my solar earlier today. He said that he and Lyanna had been down in the crypts today, and he had finally gotten to into our founder's chamber and has decided he wants to learn the art of designing and building. The child wants to build something for his Mother and young sibling."

It hadn't started to show yet but Ashara was once again with child and Jon told anyone he found that he would be the best big brother ever. He couldn't even begin to image what the boy would be like when they left for the Tourney at Harrenhal in a few moons.

He let out a tired sigh. "That boy. He wants to learn and master all skills he can get his hands on. But he is his mother's child, and as she always tells him, he can achieve anything he puts his mind to. Don't worry I'll find teachers to start him on the basics."

As he was saying this he gazed over to where he's son was now laughing with his mother, he really was the best of all of them, he had his attitude, his mother's drive, Brandon's skills, Lyanna's will and spirit, Benjen's energy and his grandfathers mind. Ned only wondered how he would take to the supposed greatest tournament of its time.

Little did Ned know that it was at this tourney that everything would begin to change, the future of Westeros was about to be opened onto a dark path.


	2. Jon I

**A/N: Hey guys thanks so much for the support, and criticism you gave, I'll be sure to try and keep making the story better. As for the age situations, sorry but I forgot to add in the last chapter that I've simply pushed everyones dates of birth back so as to allow for the story to flow better. All the events still happen in the same year such as the tourney at Harrenhal happening in 281 AC and so forth. The start of canon will still be the same year it's just that Ned, Ashara, Catelyn and Ned's siblings will be older than they were at that point in canon. In regards to Moat Cailin, I have special plans for that so you will just have to wait and see.**

 **One final note, this is simply a side project so there won't be an update schedule. I will try to get chapters out as soon as possible, but please don't hold me to anything.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice & Fire, Game of Thrones or any other related works.**

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 **Jon Stark I**

 **296 AC**

Jon was laying in on the bed within the his quarters deep in thought. He and his companions were on route to the North, sailing down the Bay of Seals on their way to dock along the Eastern shores.

They had been north of the wall. Jon had insisted that the group travel there in order to gain the experience of battling in the northern climate, among other reasons. By doing so, he would have battled in the climate and terrain conditions common to most of Westeros.

'I'll finally have the experience and power to protect and make the North a true power to be reckoned with.' He thought to himself. 'I'll make you proud grandfather, and finish what you began all those years ago.'

Jon remembered when he was still a child surrounded by his family, before he had lost almost everything precious to him. He and his grandfather had been sitting in the Godswood, as they often did, and the old lord had been telling him of the importance of the Stark family's duty to the North.

 ****Flashback****

Jon was sitting legs crossed on the earth of the Godswood staring up at his grandfather, who sat upon a large boulder, in admiration. They had been sitting there since sun rise, him listening to stories of the North's history passed down since the Age of Heroes.

Once every sennight the two of them would sit there with Rickard telling his grandson different stories. On this particular day Jon was being told the stories of Theon Stark, the 'Hungry Wolf' as well as Jon Stark I who built the Wolf's Den.

"Your Stark King ancestor, like most of our house, committed his life to the protection and betterment of the North." Rickard stated. "During his reign the North was subjugated to constant raids along our eastern coast. King Jon set out to put an end to this. So he raised the armies of the North, marched to the eastern shores of his kingdom and drove the sea raiders, many believed to be either Ibbenese, Valyrians or early Andals, out of the North, and built the Wolf's Den as a means to protect his kingdom from future raids. The fortress was held by sons, cousins, grandsons and all matters of family to the Kings of the North. The keep was once ruled by House Greystark, but after their betrayal it was manned by many of the loyal bannermen before, as you know, our ancestors granted it to House Manderly where it now serves as a prison for White Harbour.

As his grandfather was speaking, Jon stared at him, face filled with a myriad of expressions including admiration and awe. He had heard other stories of his ancestors and each one had left him feeling proud and inspired by their achievements.

His grandfather must have guessed what Jon's expression meant because he smiled, face expressing amusement, and continued speaking.

"Personally though." He spoke lowly as if telling Jon a secret. "My favourite story is of King Theon, 'The Hungry Wolf'. If there was ever a Stark that fought with his entire being for the protection and enrichment of the North, it was King Theon."

Listening to his grandfather speak with such admiration rose Jon's levels of excitement and curiosity to their peek.

"You see, King Theon had reign in a time when the North was in a constant state of war. It was during the time that he had defended the North from the Andal Invasion. It was in this invasion that Theon went to battle against the greatest Andal invader, Argos Sevenstar. The King had allied with House Bolton and marched their army to battle with the Andal near the Weeping Water, where he defeated the enemy army, killed Argos and repelled the invaders from our lands." Rickard spoke with an informative tone.

"In a show of power, the King of Winter had then sailed his army across the narrow sea to the coast of Andalos with Argos's body strung to the prow of his leading ship as though it were a figurehead. There he crushed a score of Andal villages, killing hundreds and capturing several key building. The Hungry Wolf then set off back to the North and displayed the heads of his victims on spikes along the coastline to deter future invaders."

His grandfather spoke with a hard voice as he told Jon of this.

"He later went on to conquer the Three Sisters in the Bite, as well as aiding the Night's Watch in fighting off wildlings; and when the King of the Iron Islands, Harag Hoare, dared to attack our western coast, capture the Stony Shore and burn the Wolfswood, Theon killed his son 'Ravos the Raper', who had been using Bear Island as a base, and forced all the Ironborn from Bear Island, Kraken Point and the entire coastline." He finished with the long history.

The old Stark lord looked him straight in the eyes and told him. "Every man in this world has a responsibility and duty that they must fulfil, otherwise they cannot be considered true men. Tell me lad, do you know what your is?

"No grandfather." He answered shamefully.

Grandfather had patted his head and responded "Do not feel shame boy, you are young, still years away from manhood. I shall tell you. House Stark rules the North, we protect our people and try to lead our lands to prosperity. As a member of House Stark that responsibility falls to you too, and although your uncle Brandon and his children will rule the North, as a future bannermen and Stark it is your duty to help them safeguard our people and work towards making the North truly great."

"I have dedicated my life to this cause, starting with rebuilding the ruins of old forts and beginning to settle new villages around them. They eventually will be placed in the hands of my children and loyal bannermen, such as your father ruling from Moat Cailin and you after him. But when I pass, this task will fall to Brandon and after him his children. As my Grandson, you too will inherit this duty, never forget that."

Jon looked to his grandfather seriously and spoke in a strong voice, "I promise grandfather, I'll master all the skills I need to follow my duty as a Stark and will one day help Uncle Brandon and his children protect the North from any threats just as our ancestors once did."

Rickard looked down at him with pride. "I know you will lad. But first we have to get you to your lessons!" His grandfather finished with a deep laugh, picking Jon up and tickling him.

Jon wriggled furiously childish laughter ringing in the air.

"Grandfather!" he whined. "Stooop"

Eventually he managed to break free and started to run as fast as his small legs allowed back to the keep, all the while his grandfather chased after him laughing boisterously.

 **** Flashback End ****

Jon had never really understood why his grandfather had decided to tell him the full story of Theon Stark even though he was a child. It was only years later that he understood that what his grandfather was trying to teach him was that, to protect what we love we sometimes have to do what others might perceive as cruel and unnecessary.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when he heard a knock on the door of his cabin.

"Jon." A voice called out.

"Come in." He responded.

The door opened and in walked a man of medium stature, light brown hair and green eyes. His face full with facial hair. His name was Asher Forrester and Jon was three years his senior. He was the second son of Gregor Forrester and had become Jon's brother in all but blood, the two serving in the Company of the Rose together.

Asher had been exiled from the north when a war had threatened to break out between House Forrester and House Whitehill, after he and Gwyn Whitehall had fallen in love. The two houses had been enemies for years and so when Lord Whitehill had discovered Asher and his daughter's love for one another, he threatened with war. In order to broker peace Asher had offered to leave the North; and years later Jon and Asher had met and ever since then had become brothers.

"We've just passed Eastwatch and the rest of the men want to know where we'll be making port."

"Tell them I'll be out on the deck soon, I'll check the map and let them know my decision,"

With a nod Asher left the room, heading to the main deck to inform the men their leader would be out in a moment.

With Asher gone, Jon headed over to the table on the other side of his room and looked down at the map that covered it. They were currently just north of the New Gift. Jon didn't want to land near any of the main cities of keeps of the North. With that in mind he once again studied the map and decided roughly where they would land.

His decision made, Jon grabbed the map, rolled it up and with one more check to insure he had everything he needed walked towards the door.

Before he left, he turned to the corner of the room and looked to the large animal laying there. "Ghost, you coming?"

In reply the Direwolf lifted his head, stared Jon straight in the eyes and then simply put his head back down on his paws.

"Guess not." Jon said to himself with a laugh.

It had amazed him how fast his companion had grown. It had only been four moons since Jon had found Ghost, but the Direwolf had already grown to the size of a large dog. He had known they eventually reached the size of small horses, but the sheer speed at which it was happening astounded him.

With one last look to his faithful companion Jon headed out of his quarters and made his way to the deck.

Once out there he noticed Asher standing next to a large man that far exceeded Jon in height. He looked like he could have been half giant, with his tall stature and thick dark brown locks. His name was Igmund Snow; he claimed he never knew his father but Jon took one look at him and knew that the only possible family that could have sired him were the Umbers. Igmund had grown up in White Harbour and had aspired to one day sail all around the known world.

Jon had met him when he had been working as a deck hand for a merchant vessel. He had been in Volantis on a job guarding a wealthy trader, when he came across Igmund. Knowing that he would one day return home and require a ship and a captain, because although he had learnt many skills, sailing was not one of them. Clearly seeing and discovering that Igmund was of the North, had grown up in White Harbour and dreamed of captaining his own ship, Jon struck a deal with him, that if he built a ship, Igmund would captain it and work for Jon.

When the time came they had reunited and Jon had presented him with the ship. Igmund had honoured his side of the bargain and now here they were on their way back home with the giant of a man captaining his ship.

Walking up to the two and greeting them with a nod, Jon asked one of the deck hands to fetch a barrel and laid the map upon it. With the three of them gathered around the barrel, he started to speak.

"At the moment I want to get into the North unnoticed, so what we're going to do is sail a few more leagues south until we hit there." He said pointing to the location on the map. "This is just above Karstark land so we'll have to be careful how we approach. Because the ship will be noticed if we get too close to the shore, Igmund, you'll stop it half a league off the shore where Asher and I will then take a rowboat and row the rest of the way to land. From there we'll make our way to Winterfell."

He took a moment to make sure the Igmund understood and agreed with his plan before moving on. "While we're doing that I need you to sail the ship south to White Harbour where you'll make port. Sell everything you need to but don't let anyone see and sell it. Get the ship repaired and ready for the next voyage. I'll be needing it soon so prepare means of transportation and leave half the men with the ship and bring the other half with you to escort it to me as soon as possible. We'll meet again in Wintertown."

Igmund adopted a serious look and nodded at his commands. Although he didn't want to leave his ship, he knew that the men could be trusted to look after it.

Jon turned to Asher and said. "Prepare all you need to travelling but pack light. It'll take us about two sennights to get to Winterfell and we need to be discreet. I'll be in my quarters getting what we need for journey. Also go to the cook and request for rations to be prepared; there may be days where we won't be able to hunt.

With a nod he, Asher and Igmund parted ways, all leaving to do their part to prepare for the drop off.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

The two of them had been rowing for about and hour and Jon could already see the ship fading into the horizon around the coast of the Grey Hills. She was a beautiful ship, large for a brig and needed to be manned by around 40 men. Jon had spent quite a lot to build the ship. It was constructed by ironwood that Asher had managed to procure. He had said that the tree harvesting had to be controlled otherwise they would run out as the Whitehill's had. Jon promised Asher that once they were back home he would propose planting a new grove of ironwood trees around the other holds.

Other than that, the ship had only two masts from which pearl white sails hung; and to top it off the figurehead of the ship was a beautiful lady with flowing hair and amethysts for eyes. He had named it Lady of the Stars in honour of his mother.

Jon was pulled by his thought when Ghost had turned around and butted his head against his, as if to say, focus on the rowing.

Currently Ghost was sitting at the head of the rowboat with Jon and Asher sitting in the middle rowing while their supplies were stashed at the back.

It took them about two hours of rowing before they made land, where they anchored the boat and continued on into the forests surrounding Karhold.

It was almost sunset so they would make camp in the forest that night and would continue on in the morn. Crossing over the Last River and making their way along the White Knife until they could see Winterfell, at which point they would find a crossing.

That night while Asher had taken the first watch, Jon laid on a bed roll mind entrapped in a dreamscape where he walked in the skin of a wolf.

 **** Start of Dreamscape ****

He walked silently along the wet earth, the moon was at its peek and he could smell all sorts of predators roaming the woodlands, hunting for prey.

In the distance he could make out the shape of a large prey grazing, unaware of the dangers that surrounded it.

Slowly he inched forward, body low to the ground, paws indenting into the soft earth. He raised his head and searched for a vantage point. Head craning side to side, until he spotted a large rock that jutted out of the earth like a daggers tip. Body low once again he padded silently through the shadows of the trees towards the rock. Once there he looked down at the small elk a short distance away from him and started to move into position.

As he moved his paws hit against the rock and a small piece dislodged under his weight, tumbling to the ground below, resonating with a small thud.

Hearing the noise, his prey's body locked, head raised high searching for the threat hidden in the shadows. He's body stilled, lulling the prey into a false sense of security once it hadn't found anything, and that was when he struck.

Swiftly and silently he whirled and bounded through the trees, wet leaves rustling beneath his paws, branches whipping at him as he rushed past. He could hear the wind howling as it broke against his fast moving form. He chased his prey through the forest, weaving through the trees, gaining on the fleeing form with every step. It could not keep up with his speed. Seeing a broken tree to the side of him, he increased his pace, veered to the side and climbed the fallen tree. He was now running parallel with the elk. Each step he took splintered the wood and cracked the dead tree, threatening to snap it.

As he approached the end of it, he glanced to the side keeping his prey within in his sight, and with one leap collided with it hooking his claws into its hide.

Bringing it down with his sheer size and weight, he started clawing and biting at the animal weakening its strength and grip on this life. With one last hungry glance at its prone form, he reared his head back and went in for the kill.

 **** End of Dreamscape ****

Jon woke with a loud gasp, grabbing Asher's attention. He could taste the blood in his mouth, as if he had really killed that elk.

"You alright?" Asher questioned.

"Fine, it was just a dream." He let out, short of breath.

Most nights he slept peacefully, but sometimes he had those types of dreams, and they were always with him occupying the body of a wolf. He didn't know what it meant or why he experienced it, but he always woke feeling as though the events he had witnessed were real.

He promised himself that once they had reached Winterfell he would try to find information on what was happening to him. He felt as though he had heard something similar about it before, but the only way to confirm it was in the old tomes kept at his home.

But for now he would focus on the task at hand, getting to the Northern capital.

Realising that he would not be able to fall back to sleep, Jon turned to Asher, "Get some sleep, I'll take watch and wake you at first light."

With a nod, the two men switched places, Jon taking a seat on a log, unsheathing his sword and pulling out a whetstone. For the next few hours he sat there dragging the small stone over the blade sharpening it to perfection, just as he had seen his father do.

It was just before dawn when he noticed Ghost softly padding into the small clearing. The direwolf seldom stayed at the camp with them; once he had started growing, whenever Jon and his companions would make camp, the northern beast would slink into the shadows of the surrounding foliage and explore the area.

Whenever they had been attacked while making camp north of the wall, the direwolf would return from wherever he was and within minutes would be upon their enemies. He and Jon held an unbreakable bond and it seemed his friend could always sense when danger was near.

Walking over to him, Ghost settled down at his feet, back pressed against Jon's legs and his head laid upon his paws staring out into dark forests surrounding them.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

They had been travelling for around two sennights and only reached the Lonely Hills. This was Umber territory but Dreadfort was to the southeast and although the Boltons were sworn to the Starks, his grandfather had once told him of the history between the two houses and had said to never trust a Bolton.

It was during this stretch that the two of them had faced the first signs of trouble. They been walking through the hills when Ghost had suddenly stopped.

"Ghost, what is it boy? Smell something?" Jon asked the direwolf.

Ghost sniffed the ground, ears stiff in alert. He raised his head and started analysing the air for scents. After a short while the wolf turned and started growling towards the west.

Jon turned to look in that direction and noticed specks on the horizon.

"Riders! They must be coming from the Dreadfort." He exclaimed.

"Asher, we need to find cover, before they're right on us."

With that the two men started running southwest along the plains looking for one of the many rock formations that littered the hills. If they could find a suitable one it could be used to buy them sometime to prepare just in case the riders attacked.

"There! That one should suffice." As he said this Jon pulled Asher over to the nearby rocks squatting behind them, placing their packs on the ground in front of them, and grabbing their swords.

Ghost must have sensed his intentions because he moved behind one of the rock formations close by to the one ready to ambush the riders if need be.

They could hear the stamp of horses galloping on the rock filled ground getting closer to their positions.

"Come out travellers, we shan't hurt you" a greasy voice called out.

Jon peaked his head around the stone to see the riders. There were four men, the one at the front seated upon an auburn coloured horse was big boned and slope shouldered. The man's skin was pink and blotchy, with a broad nose, long dark that looked extremely dry. He had a small mouth but wide and meaty in which a wet-lipped smile was plastered upon. With his small close-set pale eyes, Jon could only describe the man as one thing; ugly.

The other three men were all covered head to toe in armour, so much that Jon couldn't make out any distinguishing features.

"We insist that you come out, no harm shall befall you." the man at the front stated again.

With a look to Asher, Jon motioned to the bow beside him, clearly indicating to his friend that if one of them looked to be attacking he should litter their bodies with arrows.

With the plan set, Jon stepped out from behind the boulder and walked towards the men hand on the pommel of his sword.

Putting on a craven façade, Jon forced his voice to tremble. "Sorry good sers, I'm a simple merchant on my way to White Harbour from Last Hearth to sell furs for some coin. When you came riding on your horses I had believed you to be bandits."

"By the gods man, we're not bandits, we patrol these lands ejecting wildlings, bandits and foul men such as them from our borders." The leader spoke once again in his slimy tone. His men sitting silently behind him.

Jon could sense the lie from leagues away. Did they really think he would so stupid as to believe they were Umber men, when they were not wearing Umber colour or displaying any sigil.

Out of the corner of his eyes Jon could see two hunting dogs trying to sneak up on him. Relaxing his stance, Jon laughed nervously, "sorry about the misunderstanding good sers." With that he placed his hand on the back of his head and strummed his fingers three times against it.

This was a signal that Asher and he had created while they were in the company together. When situations like this would arise one of them would go out to lead the enemies into a false sense of overconfidence while the other would hide with a bow ready to shoot the, down.

Once the signal was given, and the one who was playing the decoy made their move the other would start shooting.

It was at that moment that the dogs had leapt at him. In one fluid motion Jon drew his sword and spun, cutting down one of the dogs and rolling out of the path of the other. Before the dog could turn Jon was upon it thrusting his sword straight through its rib cage killing it instantly.

He knew that Ghost had leaped out and attacked one of the men when he heard a scream pierce the air. Looking over he saw that the direwolf had leapt from the rock formation tackled one of the men off his horse, biting and clawing at any exposed areas he could find.

Turning his attention towards the others, he saw that Asher had the leader and one of the other men under constant fire, weaving in and out of behind rocks, not giving his enemies time to counter attack.

Jon had made one mistake, and that was focusing so much on what his companions were doing that he almost failed to notice the last man charging towards him atop his mount, sword out ready to slash at Jon's head.

At the last moment he was able to get his sword up, blocking the swipe, the sound of steel against steel ringing in the air.

Although Jon considered himself to be a strong individual, against the force produced by the charging horse, his arm buckled beneath his enemies blade.

Trying to mitigate the damage, Jon slid the sword down the length of his oppositions blade, slicing at the man's hand. This act had succeeded in ending the struggle between the two of them, but it had also left him with a lengthy cut straight down his arm.

He would have to end the battle quickly in order to tend to his wound, but to do that he needed to fight on equal grounds, meaning the rider needed to be separated from his mount.

While Jon thought up a strategy, his enemy had turned around, ready to make another charge. Jon stilled himself and when his enemy was almost upon him started a sprint straight towards him, ducking under the swing of the sword and sliced at the horse's legs.

Looking over his shoulder, he noticed the horse had fallen, throwing its rider straight from its back. Smiling at the changing odds, Jon lifted himself to his full height and started a charge towards his dazed opponent.

The man wore heavy plated armour, made from what looked like iron. Jon had faced opponents like this before and so knew immediately what needed to be done.

Because he wore only leathers, he had an advantage in speed. He would attack and dodge, slashing at all areas of his opponent's body. Then go on the defence, dodging the cutting blade, weaving around his opponent.

Eventually he could see his opponent tiring, and what made it even sweeter was how mad he was getting. The man had slowed down even more and was now exposing himself to Jon's attacks in fits of rage.

Jon continued his hit and run strategy, and waited for the perfect opportunity. 'There!' He thought to himself as he saw an opening.

Increasing his ferocity he got behind his opponent and stabbed his blade straight through the opening under his arm, piercing his heart. Pulling his sword free he watched as the man clutched his chest, spitting up blood and fell forward face first into the earth.

Looking around at his surroundings Jon noticed that the leader had managed to free himself of Asher's constant barrage and was charging his way looking to escape from the battle.

Thinking quickly, Jon threw himself to the side, lest he be trampled, and blindly swung his sword out. As he landed he heard a grunt of pain and raised his head watching as the man managed to escape, but not without injury. One of Asher's arrowhead had pierced his leg and Jon had managed to inflict what could be a debilitating cut stretching from the lower back and down the hip.

Slowly he lifted himself up, careful not to put any strain on his arm. He could already feel the effects of the blood loss. Asher would need to wrap it for him, but he would also get it checked by a maester once they got to Winterfell just in case an infection had taken root.

Making his way over to his friend, Jon noticed he was standing over the dead body of the third subordinates the craven pale man.

"Asher" he called out. "We need to get going before they come back with more men."

Before they recollected their packs, his friend had wrapped his wounds with the bandages they had brought in case this had happened, and then collected any recoverable arrows, placing them back in his quiver.

With that the two Northmen and direwolf left their position, racing off on one of the horses from the Bolton men. They would make their way to Long Lake where they would try and wash away their scents, let the horse loose north towards the Kingsroad in order to throw off any pursuers, and then follow the White Knife on foot until they reached the crossing near Winterfell.

Once they had hit the Long Lake, it had taken them roughly one sennight to reach the crossing, and from there they had made it on to the Kingsroad. The only problem problem they faced now was actually entering Winterfell without anybody recognising him.

Jon wanted to carefully consider his options before he decided on his next action. He was undecided how he would announce his presence. 'Would it be better to confront father alone, or when he is surrounded by his new family?' He thought to himself.

Reserving the decision for later, Jon turned to Asher. "We'll enter Wintertown tonight, find a place to rest and then tomorrow we'll turn our minds to coming up with an undetected way to get into Winterfell."

Jon had realised that if he was seen with Ghost, his identity may be discovered before he required it to be and so had decided to allow his direwolf to roam the Wolfswood while he was busy in Winterfell.

 **Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

When he and Asher entered Wintertown that night, Jon had realised how different it had become. When he was a child the town had only been in the early stages of development, but now it was probably the second largest city in the North after White Harbour and looking at it, he could see that it would eventually grow even larger.

He could tell his father had done well to continue his grandfather's work. He just hoped he hadn't forgotten about the other ancient ruins that had started to be repaired. His grandfather had told him that in order for the North to prosper we needed to increase the trade, one way to do that was to build a keep on top of the ruins of the First Men's structure at Sea Dragon Point. While adding another coastal city, it would also serve as a port, where ships could be built to fend of Ironborn raiders and other pirates.

As they walked through the city, he noticed that even though it was summer, the houses were still filled. "The people must love the new city so much that they've decided to stay well past winter." He said to Asher, amusement evident in his tone.

Jon himself had lived through several winters, two when he was still but a babe, and the others while growing up. The last one ending in 282 AC. All those winters had been quite short but harsh, and if the theory was true, the coming winter would be one of the longest in recorded history.

At the moment they were experiencing the longest summer in history, so Jon hoped to the old gods that his father was seriously preparing for the harsh season coming.

That night, Jon and Asher stayed in an inn fairly new to Wintertown known as the Frostfruit Inn. He wished he could say that he slept peacefully, happy to be on the outskirts of his home, but that would be a lie.

 ****Start of Dreamscape****

He once again dreamt that he was a wolf, but this time it was different. He was following the alpha of a large pack, he and six other direwolves directly behind their leader, a direwolf even larger then themselves littered with scars, showing its experience and power.

As the pack ran through the snow covered region that was the north, multitudes of other animals started appearing.

He saw Stags being chased through the forests, lions clawing and snapping at their legs, squids pulling wolves into the water as they passed by, drowning them.

In a field ahead, lions and wolves were going at each other. To the side fish were dying in a dried out river as falcons swooped down at the vines threatening to completely cover them.

While off to he east, he could make out three specks flying towards them.

Suddenly one of the smaller wolves running behind them increased in pace and pounced on the alpha, sinking its claws into the old wolf's back, and snapping at his neck. All he could do was watch as his alpha was felled by its own pack member.

The last thing Jon saw before he woke was a great blizzard swooping down from the North, freezing everything it came in contact with. Leaving only desolation and destruction.

 ****End of Dreamscape****

This wasn't the first time he had a dream like that. It had started after that tourney all those years ago, but had become more frequent the older he became. He had gone to many different healers over the years but nothing they gave him dispersed the dreams. Eventually he had just learnt to live with it, thinking nothing of it, but a small part of him still believed it was some sort of warning.

The next morning the two had decided on their current plan to enter Winterfell. He would get caught trying to sneak into the fort. If a more viable option arose, they would change the plan.

When he had told Asher of the plan, he had argued strongly against it.

"Jon, we can't risk it! If the guards attack the plan will fail." He protested. "You can't injure or kill any of them. Not even your father can protect you from punishment. Don't forget we of the North follow the old way, we don't allow gold to protect our lives. He will have to punish you for your actions."

That whole day, Asher had continued to hound him on changing the plan. Eventually he had grown tired of his friends words, and was about to let him know it, when he overheard two lowborn walking past them speaking.

"Did you hear? Supposedly Lord Umber and Lady Mormont are both on their way to Winterfell, Lord Stark has summoned them and will receive them when he holds court in a sennight."

"I wonder why he's summoned them. House Mormont and House Umber are some the House Stark's most devout and loyal bannermen."

"It's not our place to question what Lord Stark does…" their voices fading as they walked further away from him.

"Jon! See reason, this plan won't work." Asher had been saying.

"Ash! Just hold on." He responded.

"But…"

"Did you hear what those two said?" He asked.

"What?" His friend question, confusion evident in his tone. "Which two?"

"Those two." He said as he pointed at their retreating forms. "They said my father will be holding court when the GreatJon and She-Bear arrive."

"So?"

"So. We'll use it to get in. When grandfather or uncle Brandon use to hold court, the gates of Winterfell were opened for small folk and lords alike, to appear before the Lord of the North, where he would try to deal with whichever situations were presented to him."

"I'll appear before my Father and reveal myself, after all I do want it to be a surprise. I will claim my birthright. I promised grandfather I would inherit his legacy, and as the first-born son, I am the true heir; and will get what I came for." He finished with confidence.

His Mother had told him that he could do whatever he put his mind to and so for the majority of his life, he had sacrificed a good life as heir to the North, for a life of hardship and struggle. All so that he could learn the necessary skills he required to fulfil his duty and responsibility.

Now he was back, having learnt what he needed, and he would retake his place as heir, and help his father lead the North to greatness.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

 **Hope you like this chapter; and once again guys, thanks for all the support. I know a few of you wanted me to write the Tourney at Harrenhal, but at the moment I want to get on with the story, plus I'm still not sure how exactly I'll change it, so what I'll do is write Harrenhal as an interlude chapter and post it sometime in the future. In regards to Jon's past with the Company of the Rose and why he left; that will all be shown in flashbacks and the like.**

 **Once again thank you! And please don't forget to review.**


	3. Eddard II

**Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice & Fire or any related works.**

 **Eddard II**

 **296 AC**

Ned stood up on the bridge linking the Great Keep and the armoury, staring down at his sons training with Rodrik. The entire scene brought up painful memories of a time when he stared down in this exact place, standing with his beloved Ash, watching his son be trained by Brandon.

'Oh, Jon' he thought mournfully to himself. 'The Gods took you out of this world far to quickly.'

The memories of the day he had lost Jon were too painful, so he had decided long ago that he would lock them away. But scenes such as those below were a constant reminder.

The most painful part was watching Arya grow up. She was almost the exact embodiment of all that he had lost. She was just as wild as Brandon and Lyanna and carried the same attitude as Jon.

She didn't care that she was a highborn lady, she wanted to follow her brothers and become a warrior. She was set on doing whatever she put her mind to.

It was that attitude that had created a rift between Arya and Cat. Cat loved her children but she wanted them to grow up as though they were Southern. In her eyes Sansa and Arya had to be proper lady's, and although Sansa had taken to her teachings like a fish in water, Arya had always resisted.

Cat had never really taken to the ways of the North like Ashara had. She had coddled them and raised them in luxury. Out of all his children with Cat, only Robb and Sansa had ever let Winterfell, and that was to go to Riverrun to visit their grandfather.

At Arya's age he had already been arranged to leave for the Vale. But none of them had yet to be fostered; and Ned knew that for the North to thrive, there had to be good relations between the vassal houses and the Starks.

That was why he had summoned Maege and GreatJon to Winterfell. He knew that as two of his most trusted bannermen, he could trust them to foster his children.

It had taken a lot of effort to convince Cat, but eventually she had acquiesced. So when the Lord and Lady of House Umber and Mormont arrived. He would hold court with them, talk over the deal, and then announce it at the feast.

Over the years, he had grown to love Cat. She was kind, loving and devoured to her family. But no-one could ever replace Ashara.

When he would sit in the Godswood, under the Heart Tree, he would think of her. Staring up at the stars, he would think of her. Though the thing that reminded him most of her was Lyarra.

His beautiful daughter, named for her grandmother, and last remnant of Ashara. She looked just like her mother and contained the same compassion and kind nature. She had left home already, wed under the Godswood and living with her own family.

While growing up, Ned tended to dote on her more than his other children. She was the star of his eye, and the two were as close as they could be.

When Cat had requested for her to be fostered away, was one of the only times he had truly gotten angry at his wife. He knew that she had loved Lyarra as though she were her own, but he had always gotten the feeling that she was scared that his eldest daughter would try and stake a claim on Winterfell as the eldest one day, through one of her sons.

Lyarra was extremely close to her siblings, especially Robb, and she would never try to usurp his claim.

He had flat out refused the request and refused to talk to Cat for days, but the longer he thought on it the more open he came to it. He knew that his daughter deserved to know the other side of her family, and so had used the opportunity to send her to Starfall, where she spent two years with her uncle and his family.

It was only last year when she had been wed to Torrhen Karstark. Ned knew that his distant cousin's children were good men. So when he had approached him in hopes of strengthening the connection between the two houses once again, Rickard had immediately accepted.

The two were living at Karhold, his daughter with child, while Ned organised for a hold to be built in the New Gift. The earth there was fertile and perfect to grow crops on.

There they would also start a new cadet branch of the Stark line. Creating a Stark household that would rule the New Gift.

The keep would also mean more support could be sent to the Night's Watch. With only the North essentially supporting them, they were in the worst shape they had been in a while.

He knew that by giving the two lands there, he could rest easy knowing that there was another source of aid and supplies for the men who guarded the realm.

His father had started to rebuild other holds through the North before he had died. When Ned had taken up the Lordship he had halted the construction on the majority of them in order to focus on expanding Winterfell and it surrounding, redirecting the funds used for the other holds straight into Winterfell's coffers.

He wanted to build the North's wealth a bit more, before he started to spend the coin on holds.

He had requested the hill tribes to dig deeper into the mountains that littered their lands. A few of the clans such as First Flints, Norreys and Harclays and reported back that they had found large mines of iron, silver and copper, as well as small caverns covered with quartz.

Over the years they had been slowly mining the resources and had managed to broker a trade deal with some of the free cities.

Ned had only allowed a small percentage of what they mined to be traded, half sent into storage and the rest, the tribes traded to other houses of the North.

If Robert's Rebellion was any sort of indication to Ned, it was that war could break out at any moment. He wanted the North to be prepared for that it the next time it happened.

That was also why he had ordered the formation of Winterfell's standing army. In about the eight years they had been active they had only grown to about one thousand strong, but they were formed in order to hold order in the North. Made up mostly of small folk and green boys that had arrived looking to make some coin. They were trained by Ser Rodrik when they arrived in Winterfell, and would then be placed under the jurisdiction of whichever lord they were posted with.

They patrolled the entire North and were often sent to reinforce the houses that suffered constant raids from wildlings that managed to break through the Wall.

They had also been tasked with repairing the Kingsroad. Over the years it had been neglected and was now in bad shape. So when the force been formed, Ned has sent them out to clear the road from debris and fallen trees.

After that had been completed he had recalled them to work on Wintertown, building new houses, laying stone roads instead of dirt, and building the wall that surrounded the much larger city.

While some patrolled the North and worked on Wintertown, preparing it for the Winter. Ned had garrisoned three hundred men at Moat Cailin. They would answer to Howland, who was teaching them how to traverse the surrounding land and how to grow and cultivate the special crops that only grew in those areas.

There they were also tasked with making improvements to Moat Cailin, working on the new towers and traps that were placed in the marshes surrounding the keep.

Ned was pulled from his thoughts when Maester Luwin walked up to stand beside him.

"My lord, ravens have arrived from Last Hearth and Bear Island. Lord Umber and Lady Mormont have answered the summon, they make for Winterfell as we speak. They have written that Lady Davey and SmallJon will be accompaning them."

Ned nodded his head at the maester's words and replied. "It will take them roughly one sennight to arrive here, please have the servants ready chambers for their arrival; and let the cooks know that we'll be having a feast to mark their arrival, and tell them not to send the hunters out, I'll take the boys on a hunt in two days."

The old maester waited for his lord to finish before heading off to carry out the orders give to him.

With that, Ned turned and headed to his solar ready to start his day of work. As he walked he thought to himself, 'I might as well send a raven to Castle Cerwyn.'

The Cerwyns we only half a days ride out and Cley had basically grown up with his children. 'I'm sure the kids will appreciate him being there.'

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Two days had passed, and Ned was getting ready to leave for the hunt. He didn't want to take a large party with, otherwise they would scare away any animals long before they even got near it.

The chosen party consisted of Jory, Theon, Robb, Bran and himself. This was Bran's first time joining one of their hunts and he had been tempted to bring a larger host but knew that if he wanted his son to learn, he needed to do it the same way as everyone else.

Grabbing Ice on the way out, Ned made his way towards the armoury, intending to collect a hunting bow and quiver.

Once he arrived there he noticed Rodrik taking inventory. Grabbing the bow and arrows he made his way over the the Master-at-arms of Winterfell and spoke in a low voice.

"When Arya found out I was taking the boys hunting, she demanded me to allow her to come. Obviously I said no, if I had said yes, Cat would have had a fit. But I noticed her trying to follow me unnoticed." He said, amusement showing on his face. "I have a feeling she'll try to sneak out after us, so when you train the new recruits, take her with you and let her practice her swordplay."

"Of course my lord." Rodrik replied with a smile. "That will definitely distract her."

Taking his leave, Ned made his way to the Hunters Gate to wait for the rest of the hunting party.

After a short while the host had assembled, packs on their back ready for the hunt. Making sure his younger son had everything he needed, Ned nodded to the guards, who opened the gate and allowed the group through, straight into the Wolfswood.

As they journey through the woods they would stop every fifty or so yards, and Theon would set small traps intended for rabbits and other small animals.

One of the times they had stopped, Bran had asked why they were setting traps and then walking away.

Ned watched in pride as Robb squatted in front of his little brother and started to explain to him what they were doing.

"When we hunt it's not only about us tracking the animals, but allowing some of the smaller and quicker ones to come to us. By setting up the traps, the smaller animals are attracted to them and when they are right on top of it, the trap is sprung." His son stated. "By doing it this way we can leave the traps and continue to hunt for larger prey, and on our way back, hopefully the traps would have caught some rabbits or foxes. You understand?"

With a nod from his brother, Robb lifted himself up and the group continued on their way.

They had been walking for about an hour when they found the footprints of a deer.

Slowing their pace, they quietly followed the prints for about a hundred yards before they saw them.

A group of three small deer were grazing in the distance, unaware of the five presences watching from afar.

Looking to Bran and indicating for him to just watch, Ned nodded at Theon, Robb and Jory. The three of them breaking off from group, moving closer to the animals, bows notched. Each of them ready to take the shot.

They would need to each take the shot at the same time, otherwise the other deer would be scared off. So looking at each other, they gave a nod and let loose the arrows.

Out of the arrows, only Theon's had hit the deer's head, the other two embedding themselves in the necks.

The deer fell over landing with a thud.

As they walked over to the still forms, Ned noticed Theon give Robb a cocky look and let out a small smile.

Those two had grown as close as brothers and tended to compete against each other in anything they could. Theon was the better archer, but Robb easily beat him at swordplay.

Although the boy was a ward due to the war, he had grown into a fine man. Arrogant, but he had a good head on his shoulders. Ned could tell that when the time came for a Theon to take up the mantle of lord of the Iron Islands, he would be ten times the ruler his father was.

He hadn't realised how long the group had been out until he could see the sun disappearing behind the tall trees that made up the Wolfswood.

It would take them about three hours back to Winterfell, and Ned didn't want to be in the woods when the larger predators came out to hunt.

With that in mind, the group strung the legs of the deer together and started dragging it back home.

They had been travelling for about two hours, collecting the small rabbits and snow foxes that had been caught as they walked past, when something suddenly came to him.

'We haven't been attacked once. The smell of the blood should have attracted all sorts of predators, especially the wolves.'

Whatever was out there that could scare away the predators of the Wolfswood, had to be extremely fearsome.

Not wanting to meet such a creature, Ned turned to the group, "We need to hurry! Something's out there, I don't want to be here when it smells the blood."

The group increased their pace, leaving behind the last few animals caught in the traps, and managed to arrive at the Hunter's Gate within a half hour.

As they exited the Wolfswood, Ned could've sworn he saw bright red eyes watching them from the shadows, but when he turned to look again they were gone.

Once through the gate, he turned to the other three. "Take the kills to the store and then get cleaned up for sup. I'll take the weapons and traps back to the armoury."

Looking to Bran, he said. "Go with you brother, he'll show you what we do with the kills. Then get cleaned up, you know what your mother will say if she sees you like this." Kneeling down before his son, Ned placed a hand on his hair ruffling it and continued. "You did well today, I'm proud of you. Next time we'll see if you can try your aim at shooting a deer."

With a big smile Bran raced to catch up with the rest. Leaving Ned to take the equipment back to the armoury.

That night they were dining in the Great Hall. Ned looked around and saw Robb talking animatedly about something to Theon. Sansa was holding baby Rickon while she talked to Beth Cassel and Jeyne Poole. Judging by the look on Arya's face and the laughter coming from Bran, he could guess that he had been boasting about the hunt.

They sat there, ate and talked late into the night. Eventually the hall had been emptied and everyone had gone off to bed, or guard duty in the case of the soldiers.

As he lay in bed that night, he couldn't relieve his thoughts of those piercing red eyes he swore he saw in the woods. He had never seen anything like it, and that scared him.

It was safe to say he didn't get much sleep that night.

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GreatJon and Maege had both arrived the next day and were sitting next to him as he presided over the court, seated upon the throne of Winterfell.

It had been there built on a raised dais since the time the Starks had ruled as Kings of Winter. The throne was made of weirdwood and had intricate carvings on that depicted two crossing swords on a field of vines. The armrests were fashioned so that the body of a direwolf protruded, in such a way that he could rest his palms atop their heads.

The rest of it was fairly simple but covered in runes of the Old Tongue. All Kings of Winter had sat upon this throne, and even after Torrhen gave up the crown, the Starks continued to rule from it.

The day continued to drag on, with many of the small folk who had come from further north, complaining to their lords and ladies that they were receiving more and more wildlings attacks.

Apparently the wildlings were managing to get further south, and in greater numbers as well.

Ned knew that some of the wildling tribes were peaceful and if they wanted to join the North, he wouldn't stop them. But many of them that breached the Wall were unruly and savage. They acted as though they were bandits, stealing what was not theirs, abducting women and pillaging small towns and farms.

He could not stand for that. If they insisted to come into his lands and disrespect and break the laws put in place, then they would have to live with the consequences.

"If they continue to break the laws of our land, then they must pay for their actions. Ser Rodrik." He said calling out to the old knight. "Assemble one hundred men and ride North, search the land, any wildling that fights will be killed, but any that surrender are to be taken prisoner and brought back to Winterfell. Harm no women or children."

With that said, the master-at-arms left the hall ready to carry out his lord's commands.

Ned had been about to finish for the day when he noticed a man garbed in a cloak, head covered by a hood.

As the man walked forward he held his head low so as not too show his face. He looked to be Ned's height, maybe a head taller and had dark brown locks that fell out of the hood.

When the man reached the front of the hall, he knelt on one knee before the lords and ladies, bring his hands out from underneath the cloak to place them on his knee. He still kept his head bowed, so none of them could make out any features.

"My lords and ladies." The man stated, voice deep with a northern accent.

"Rise." He responded.

When the man rose he brought his arms up, and Ned noticed he was wearing a black doublet. But that wasn't what caught his attention. It was the silver brooch pinned to it.

He would recognised that brooch anywhere, it was a longsword that had an eight pointed star attached behind the hilt. Embedded in the centre of the star was a small diamond.

Ned's face turned blank. He motion for Jory to approach him, and whispered to him. "Clear the room."

Jory face was wrought with confusion, but he followed his lord's commands.

When he and the rest of the household guards had ushered everybody out of the hall, he turned back to Ned and gave a nod before leaving, closing the great doors behind him.

The only people left in the room where the hooded man, GreatJon, Maege, Robb, Catelyn and maester Luwin.

The man's head was still bowed, but he could make out a beard that filled out the man's long face.

His face as cold as winter, Ned demanded in a quiet voice. "Where did you get that!"

Judging by the small smile that adorned the man's covered face, Ned knew that he understood what he was asking, yet he did not respond.

Ned could see the others looking at him in confusion, they had not see the brooch, and even if they had, would definitely not know what it was.

"I said, where did you get that!" He once again stated.

Again the man did not answer.

Patience running out, Ned rose from the throne and marched forward and grabbed the man's cloak the fabric furling underneath his clenched fists.

"ANSWER ME!" He roared out in fury, as the others watched in shock as the 'Quiet Wolf' lost control.

The man was quiet for a while before he lift his head, eyes closed.

When the man opened his eyes, Ned staggered back as though he had been struck.

"I think you know" the man had stated softly as Ned stared straight into his eyes.

Those deep violet eyes.

'It can't be. He's dead. Everybody I sent looking came back with nothing. They all said he was likely dead...'

He needed to speak to him alone. If this really was Jon….

Turning to the others, he spoke softly. "Leave us."

Cat lingered, "Ned?" She asked unsure if her husband was ok.

"Please." He said once again. "Leave us. I need a moment alone with him."

With that the group exited the Great Hall, leaving him alone with the man.

Reaching up, he grabbed the hood and gently pulled it back revealing the man's face.

"Jon! But how?" He asked softly, feeling weak from the shock of the situation.

"Father." He's firstborn responded. "It nice to see your face once more."

At once he pulled his son into a deep embrace, face filled with shock and happiness. After a few moments of simply holding his eldest son, he let him go and placed his hands on Jon's shoulders.

Again he asked. "But how!? We thought you were dead. Everybody I sent looking for you came back with nothing! Where have you been!?"

"I've been everywhere, from the free cities of Essos to beyond the Wall, learning new skills and gaining experience in battle. All so that I could one day come back home. Armed to protect it, just as our ancestors once did." He's son replied with a small smile on his face.

"But you left, without saying a word. You never contacted us, never let us know you were alive! I lost your mother, then Brandon, Father , Lyanna and you." He finished weakly

"I know. But for many years I was angry at you. You had decided to wed once again, and not even a year after Mother died. So I decided to let everyone think I was dead. That way I could learn everything I need without you dragging me back home."

"Everyone thought you were dead. Lyarra grew up thinking you were dead."

At this Jon's face fell, expression filled with pain. "Grandfather once said that to fulfil our goals and dreams we have to be prepared to make sacrifices. I know that it was selfish of me not to let you know I was alive, but I needed to go on that journey alone. I couldn't have you worrying over me every step of the way."

"Plus" he added with a large smile. "I managed to procure something that I think you'll like. It was while we were north of the Wall. We were on our way back to the ship, travelling through the Haunted Forest near the Antlers River, when Ghost found a hidden path that led to an ancient ruin."

Ned didn't mention that he had no idea who Ghost was, but he allowed his son to continue.

"It looked exactly like a plain hill, but after searching we eventually found a caved in doorway. After thousands of years, vines and foliage had grown over the collapsed entry way, hiding it from anybody that walked by. It took about fifteen of us almost an entire day to clear it." Jon explained. "But once we were inside, we noticed that it must have been an armoury and forge. There were tunnels that looked like they might have led down to an underground mine, but those entrances too had been completely collapsed, we would have never been able to clear it."

"So what did you find in the ruin?" He asked, growing a little impatient.

"I'm getting to that." Jon responded, amusement etched into his expression. "We found several journals that looked to be outlining the events of the time as well as what looked like their forging techniques. A lot of the pages were faded and impossible to read, but with my limited knowledge of the Old Tongue I was able to learn some mind blowing things."

Reaching to his belt, Jon pulled a sheathed sword out and handed it to him.

"According to the journal the First Men used weapons that were not unlike Valyrian Steel. They were forged by smelting iron and a cyan coloured ore known as Mithril together. Mixing the two created a metal of unrivalled strength. It was light and when fashioned into a blade, could cut through almost anything." Jon explained. "I think the runes applied to them helped them to be able to withstand the test of time."

Unsheathing the longsword, Ned could see that it was almost completely light grey except for the blue ripples that appeared along the blade. It looked almost like Ice, except the veins of icy blue were much more prominent than the dark swirls that appeared on his Valyrian Steel greatsword.

Running along the length of the blade were inscriptions of runes of the Old Tongue. They were black in colour and ran about half way up.

"The runes, what do they say? And why do they look as though they are made of something different?" He asked his son.

"From what I could understand, the runes are the symbols for warrior, strength, protection and opening." Jon replied. "As for what they are made of, according to the journal, they were made separately from something they called dragonglass and were then merged with the sword. How they did it, I've not the slightest of clues, the journal was almost completely faded after that."

Looking back down at the sword Ned saw that the cross guards were wide and each end held the grey head of a direwolf. The grip felt like iron and was wrapped tightly in black leathers.

It was the pommel that drew his attention though. Sat on the end of the sword was the head of a white direwolf with purple garnets for eyes.

"The previous hilt was completely unusable, so I forged a new one. I've named the blade Winterthorn. Quite appropriate don't you think." His son said, noticing where his eyes were drawn.

"Yes. Very much so…"

"Anyway, there were three swords in the ruin and we also found caches of iron ore, enough to arm thirty men I'd say, as well as small amounts of what we believe to be mithril. But it's useless to us without knowing the smithing techniques of the First Men."

"Three swords? Where are the others?" Ned asked, surprised.

"They were on my ship, but at the moment I'm having some of my men transport one of them with the ores here to Winterfell. One of the swords is with them, while my closest friend, Asher Forrester, has the other one."

He was surprised to hear that Jon had met and befriended the exiled son of Gregor, and to hear that he had his own ship. 'Unbelievable…'

It was only then that the realisation of how much he had missed in his sons life hit him.

'He's a man of one and twenty now. I've missed almost his entire life, I can't even say that I know my own son, because I don't. He's been through so much already, and where was I when he struggled, when he needed his father? Sitting in the comfort of Winterfell.'

Ned continued to wallow in his sadness and grief. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't realised Jon had been calling his name until his son knocked him on his shoulder.

"Father, are you ok?" Jon asked him.

"Yes, yes. Just some heavy thoughts."

"Anyway, the reason I came back now, was because I'm finally ready and prepared to be your heir. So I can continue carrying out the duty of House Stark." Jon stated.

Ned was a bit shocked, he hadn't expected his son to say that. In a soft voice he started to speak. "Jon, Robb's the heir. Everything that his been taught has been in preparation for when he succeeds me."

"So… I'm the eldest son. According to the law, as the eldest I have the best claim, I don't care if his mother is the current Lady Stark, I was born first. Or have you forgotten your first wife!? Ashara Dayne was her na…"

"HOW DARE YOU! Don't ever presume to think that I would ever forget your mother!" He roared in anger, but calmed down and spoke his next words softly. "She was my star. My Ashara. I could never forget her, and will never stop loving her."

"Father. I'm sorry, I allowed pettiness to overcome me. But…" Jon started apologetically.

"It's fine. I know you were only trying to get your point across. But I suppose you are right. As my eldest son, you have the best claim. Come let's go to my solar. I'll summon Cat there and we can talk about all of this."

With that, the duo made their way to his solar, Jon greeting and taking the time to have small chats with the older staff that served in Winterfell when he was still a child.

Observing his son as he spoke with the different people, Ned noticed how easily he spoke with them and garnered their attention. Even though they didn't know it was Jon they were talking to, he was still able to freely converse with them. 'He's definitely inherited his mother's charisma. He'll make a fine lord one day.'

Upon their arrival at his solar, Ned approached the guard standing beside the doorway and spoke. "Alyn, please go and find my lady wife and ask her to come to my solar."

With a brisk nod, Alyn left his post, leaving Ned and Jon alone to enter his solar.

"I see you haven't changed the solar very much." His son stated as they walked into the room.

"No. I suppose I haven't, have I?"

Looking around Ned took in the sight.

The room was located on the top floor of the Great Keep. Opposite to his sleeping quarters. As those two rooms were the only ones on the top floor, both were very spacious and open.

Sitting in the middle of the room was his Desk. It was made from hardwood and was decorated with fine carvings of wolves running through a forest, displayed on the thick rim of the table.

At the moment, the desk was covered with letters and papers outlining commands to be sent out to the lords of the North.

Behind the desk sat a large chair, plain yet easy on the eyes.

To the right of the desk sat a large circular table, in which a large map of the North lay. The map showed the locations of all the keeps and towns of the north, as well as potential locations for new keeps to be built. On top of it sat wooden pieces indicating the different houses' sigil.

To the left of the desk was a fireplace flanked by stone wolves. In front of this was a small wooden dinning table for when he would sometimes eat in his solar.

Spaced around the room were several bookcases which held the accounts and other documents of Winterfell and the North.

Decorating the walls of the room were large tapestries of a direwolf, as well as a scene which depicted the Kings of the North bowing down and declaring allegiance to House Stark, the Kings of Winter.

Behind the desk were doors that opened to a balcony which over looked the north western parts of Winterfell. From it, he could see the smith all the way to the First Keep.

He was brought out of his observations when he saw Jon standing over the map of the North, tracing over the different holds with his fingers.

"Do you remember what I use to say, about what I wanted to one day do?" His son asked softly, eyes still glued to the map.

Thinking back on it, he didn't think he could ever forget he's son's constant declarations of who he would one day be.

"Of course. You would tell everyone how one day Jon Stark would be remembered as reverently as Brandon the Builder. That you would build something that would stand the test of time, just as Winterfell has." He responded with a smile.

"While I was away I learnt a great many skills, and building was one of them. I haven't managed to complete many of my true goals in life, but now I have the opportunity. Once I've settled back into Winterfell, give me leave to travel the North and survey the land. I can choose ideal places for new holdings and keeps, and get to know the land and the bannermen."

"You've just gotten back. I know that I can't stop you, but at least stay a few more moons before you set out again. Plus you need to go see your sister. I will have to send out a raven to request her to come back to Winterfell; it should take a few days for her to reach us, but I want us all to be together, as we should have been." He replied, finishing off with a bit of anger.

He knew that his son had left and made sacrifices so that he could one day protect the North. He could understand that his actions leading up to the war had not gone down well with Jon, but a part of him was still angry at the fact that his eldest born had allowed him to believe him dead for so long.

"Once we're finished talking to Cat on the matter of inheritance." He continued. "We can go outside and you can show me what you've learnt over these years. You might even stand a chance against your old man."

Jon laughed in reply. "If you think you can keep up with me father, you're more wishful than I thought you would be."

"Oh don't worry, I'm more than capable of keeping up. Someone needs to knock some of that arrogance out of you. I think I know a few moves that might knock you onto your arse. Don't get cocky with me just yet…"

"Keep dreaming old man…"

The two were interrupted from their banter when a knock sounded.

"My lord, it is your lady wife. You called for me?" Cat's voice called out.

"Aye, come in."

Opening the door, Cat entered the room, curiosity exhumed from her expression.

He watched as she looked over to Jon, who was now staring at the tapestry of the Northern lord's bowing down to the Starks, and then turned to him with a questioning gaze.

Grabbing Jon by the shoulders, he forced him to turn around and face Cat.

As his face became visible to her, Ned noticed a look of sheer surprise and shock overcome he's wife. He knew that Jon's features would have shocked her, and could only guess what was going through her mind.

Pushing his own thoughts to one side, Ned spoke slowly. "Cat. I want you to meet Jon. My eldest son…"

 **Hey there guys, sorry for taking so long to update. I'm back at Uni now and have just been overloaded with work. I haven't really had time to write much recently so I hope this chapter is ok. Thanks for all the reviews and love you've shown this story.**

 **The next update won't be for a while because I'm trying to write a few chapters ahead, just so that I have a clear idea of where the story is heading, and so that I'm able to give you guys chapters at least once or twice a month.**

 **Again a massaive thanks for the support**


	4. Catelyn I

**AN: Hey guys sorry it took so long to update, I've been writing ahead, so as of this moment, I've completed up to Chapter 7 of this story and am currently working on chapter 8 and editing the others. In the near future I'll be posting my progress with the chapters on my profile. Also as an apology for not updating in a while, I've decided to post two chapters this time. So be sure to give both of them a read.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own A Song if**

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 **Catelyn I**

 **296 AC**

When the hooded man had entered into Great Hall she had been suspicious of his intentions. What shocked her though, was the anger that arose in her husband. She didn't know what he was talking about when he shouted at the stranger, but for the 'Quiet Wolf' to get so angry, it must have been something that shocked him to the core.

The only time she had ever seen Ned close to that level of anger had been when she had recommended for Lyarra to be fostered away from Winterfell, and even then this was more intense.

She half expected him to swing at the man but before that could happen, the hooded figure said something too softly for the rest of them to hear but it caused Ned to stagger backwards as if he had been struck.

That was when he had ordered them from the room. Lord Umber and Lady Mormont hadn't complained and dutifully followed their overlord's commands. But he was her husband, she would be there if he needed her.

But it turned out that he didn't want her there. So she left the hall and went to the kitchens in order to ensure the servants had all the food prepared for tonight's feast.

During her walk to the kitchens she passed the training yard and spotted Robb. He was standing with Theon and SmallJon, watching as Lord Umber demonstrated different sword forms and methods of beating opponents.

Once the hulking Lord finished his demonstration, the three stepped forward and started trying to mimic GreatJon's moves. The Umber heir looked to be having the easier time, probably because his father had showed him this before.

Although Robb looked to be having some trouble, she was still proud of her eldest. He was shaping up to be a good lord. Sharp minded, good with a sword, compassionate and most of all honourable, just like his father.

With one last look at her eldest son, She continued on her way to the kitchens.

There she met with the kitchen staff. They had sent out some of the hunters to fetch more meat that morning, to add to that which Ned and the others had hunted, but they had returned with only small prey such as snow foxes and rabbits.

According to the hunters, something was scaring the larger prey deeper into the forest so that the only things they could catch quickly were the smaller animals that lived in burrows and could be captured with traps.

She knew that the Wolfswood was crawling with wolves, but that had never stopped the larger prey from grazing closer to Winterfell before. Whatever was scaring them away had to be fearsome.

Clearing her mind, she left the kitchens and made her way over to the sept. The girls would be there for their lessons with Septa Mordane. There was a small room that branched off from the main chambers of the sept where Mordane held classes for her children and those of some of the household.

Entering the room she noticed the septa supervising as Sansa, Arya, Jeyne and Beth practiced their needle work.

Sansa and Arya could not be more apart, with her eldest daughter inheriting the Tully looks while her youngest looked all Stark; and it wasn't just their looks that separated them, they acted completely different.

Sansa mimicked Catelyn's own mannerisms while her younger sister fought against everything lady like. Arya hated the Septa and tried to refuse to learn all that she was expected to.

Instead she strived to learn how to fight and ride. How to become a warrior. Because of that attitude Catelyn was ashamed to admit that a small part of her was disappointed in her youngest daughter.

She knew how the seven kingdoms worked, men and women each had their duties that were expected to be carried out. The men learnt the art of ruling and war, and the women learnt how to run the household, how to make sure everything that their husbands didn't have time to do was done.

The fact that Robb and Lyarra, while she was still in Winterfell, encouraged Arya to do what she wanted only made her life more difficult.

When Lyarra was still young, she and Catelyn had been close. She had treated her as if she were her own daughter but as the years went past she began to worry that Lyarra might try to one day usurp Robb's claim to Winterfell.

As the eldest living child of Eddard Stark, she did have a claim, and that worried Cat. Which was why she had approached her husband and requested for her to sent to foster with another house.

That was one of the few times she had ever seen her husband truly anger. He had given her a look of pure ice, so cold it had sent her reeling back in shock. It was then that she understood what the Stark's truly were to the Northern Houses.

They weren't just the overlords, but were Winter themselves. The House of Stark reigned supreme over their lands and anyone who threatened that land or its people would be struck down with the wrath of winter.

Today had been the first time in quite a while since she had seen her husband exhibit so much anger, and that frightened her. Whoever that man was, he caused a sense of rage in her husband that she had never seen before.

"Mother! Come over here. Look at my embroidery?" Sansa's voiced called out.

Smiling at the Septa and the other girls, she made her way over to her eldest daughter.

Looking at the small piece of cloth held within her daughter's hand, she saw a small silver trout. It was almost perfectly stitched but she could see a few errors dotted around the piece.

Still she was extremely proud of her daughter. "Sansa dear, it's beautiful."

"Thank you mother…" she replied with a small blush from the appraisal. "I made it in the hopes that you could send it to grandfather or uncle Edmure."

"Of course we can dear." She replied. "I'll ask your father if we can send a rider to take it down to Riverrun for you."

Giving the token back to her daughter, she made her way over to Arya.

She looked gloomy, staring daggers into her piece of fabric.

"Come child, show me what you've done." She called out to her youngest daughter.

Making her way over, Arya handed her a small piece of cloth. On it was what looked to be a wolf standard, different to that of House Stark. The stitching wasn't of the best quality but she could see that her daughter did have some resemblance of talent for the process.

Arya must have read her expression, because she looked at her with a face full of shame and sadness. "It's horrible isn't it?" She asked.

"Of course not Arya! Your still learning, one day you'll be just as good as your sister."

That was the wrong thing to say, for as soon as the words had left her mouth, Arya's face erupted in anger and defiance. "Who wants to be like Sansa! She just a stupid lady! I'll never be like her! Never!"

With that her youngest daughter raced out of the room. As she made to follow, she noticed out of the corner of her eye Beth and Jeyne silently laughing at Arya's outburst. With a final glare at the two she left the room ready to chase and apologise to her daughter.

When the two were younger Arya and Sansa had a great relationship, she would follow her big sister around everywhere, trying to emulate everything she did. But in the last year their relationship had started to deteriorate. Arya wasn't as fast a learner as Sansa when it came to the duties of a highborn lady, and because of this a rift had started to form between the two. It was one day when Arya had found Beth and Jeyne making fun of her, while Sansa stood by not defending her sister. The two had started calling her Arya Underfoot behind her back, and because Sansa had never said anything in Arya's defence, she had never forgiven her sister.

Whenever the two were compared, Arya would erupt in anger and storm off. More than often she would run to Robb, and he would either take her to the Godswood or out riding.

She was on her way to see if her daughter had run to Robb, when she heard someone calling her name. Turning around she saw Alyn making his way to over to her.

"M'lady." He said with a bow of his head. "Lord Stark asks for your presence in his solar. He insists that you come immediately."

She knew that she shouldn't keep her husband waiting, but she was worried about Arya and where she was. Looking to the household guard she spoke. "Alyn, please find Arya for me and take her to Robb, tell her I will speak to her after I have spoken with Lord Stark."

"Of course m'lady."

Nodding to the man she made her way towards the Great Keep, wondering if perhaps Ned was going to explain to her what had happened earlier in the Great Hall.

As she approached the door to his solar she could hear her husbands voice accompanied by another.

"Oh don't worry, I'm more than capable of keeping up. Someone needs to knock some of that arrogance out of you. I think I know a few moves that might knock you onto your arse. Don't get cocky with me just yet…"

"Keep dreaming old man…" the other voice let out with a loud laugh.

Deciding to let her presence be known, she approached the door, knocked and called out. "My lord, it is you lady wife. You called for me?"

"Aye, come in."

Opening the door she noticed Ned standing by the desk while a man stood examining the large tapestry of the Stark Kings. The man's back was facing her so she couldn't see his face or any defining features, but she could guess that this was the same man from earlier.

Looking to her husband, she gave a questioning look, in which he simply responded with a smile.

Walking over to the man he grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around to face her.

When she saw his face, she couldn't help but recoil in shock. He had all the features of a Stark, if it weren't for the different eye colour he would look almost exactly like Ned.

She had seen all he living Starks, and this man was not one of them. Unless he was a descendant of one of the branches of the Stark family, like the Karstarks, she had no other idea who he could be.

It was what Ned said next that shocked her the most though.

"Cat. I want you to meet my eldest son, Jon…"

The only thing that went through her mind at that moment was shock and confusion. She was so taken by surprised that she struggled to put forwards any words.

For a few minutes complete silence reigned over the room, the two parties simply staring at one another. Eventually Jon broke the silence.

"Lady Catelyn, a pleasure to see you again."

For a moment she was confused as to why he had implied he had met her before. But after a few seconds realised that they had in fact met at Harrenhal.

He had been so young at the time, she completely forgot about him. Looking at him now she could see that he did not look all the different. Obviously his features were more defined and he had lost all his baby fat, but underneath that beard was the same face she vaguely remembered from all those years ago.

She was at a loss for words, here was her husband's son, standing in front of her seemingly risen from the dead.

"But… he said you were dead…" she managed to utter.

Jon let out a small chuckle. "Yes I suppose he did. A fault of my own doing I assure you. Unfortunately, it was better that my father thought me dead."

"Now that Cat's here, do you mind telling me what happened? Why and how did you disappear?" Ned interrupted.

She had to admit, that she too was interested in knowing what happened to Jon. All this time Ned had refused to talk to anyone other than Benjen about what happened to his son. She had always believed that the reason he refused to talk was because it was too painful for him, but, now it was revealed that he actually had no idea what had happened.

"Well, as I explained to you earlier father, I was angry at the situation surrounding us. No offence to you my lady, but I was less than pleased that my father had decided to re-marry so soon after my own mother's death."

At this she let out a slight wince. It seems he didn't now the entire story.

"So I decided I would run away and go to live Grandfather Ulrick at Starfall. Once uncle Benjen had gone to sleep I snuck out Winterfell through one of the tunnels that came out just outside Wintertown. Then I stole a horse from one of the inn keepers and rode for White Harbour." Jon continued.

"You couldn't have gone to Starfall though because as soon as Benjen told me you were missing, I sent a raven to your grandfather and he wrote that you hadn't been there since your last visit with your mother." Ned replied.

"I never did get there, you see I had bordered a merchant ship that would be sailing for Volantis, making port at Kings Landing and Dorne first though. But a few days after the ship set off, we were set upon by slavers."

At this her and Ned let out a gasp in dread. 'Please don't tell me he became a slave.' The though of a young child being sold into slavery almost brought her to tears.

Jon must have seen the looks on their faces because he paused his story and reassured them that he had not been sold as a slave. After a few moments he told them of how the captain of the ship had seen the slavers coming and had told him to go below deck and hide in one of the crates.

"When they boarded the ship, the entire crew was placed in chains and forced to sail the ship to Meereen. Once we arrived there, the men were hoarded together and taken away to where I assume they were sold. Fortunately I was able to escape the ship and hide in the slums of the city." Jon said. "I spent a few weeks finding information and books on Essos and it's regions and cities before I left Meereen and made my way to Volantis."

"And? What happened next?" Ned asked, voice rich with curiosity.

"Another time. I'll tell you everything that happened some other time, and then you can write my memoirs." Jon stated with a laugh.

Looking at the two of them, Cat could easily see the resemblance. Jon looked just like Ned except for the eyes. There was no way that anybody could deny that he was a Stark, from memory she could see the likeness between Brandon, lord Rickard, Lyanna, Benjen and Jon. They all held the same solemn look, long face and dark hair.

"Why come back to Winterfell now, you've been gone for thirteen years, so why now?" She asked Jon. A small part of her already knew the answer but was afraid to believe it. She needed to hear it from his mouth.

"I've learnt all that I can, experienced battle and grown my skills to a satisfactory level. But now I need to be home, to meet my siblings and learn about the Northerners and our lands. To take my place as my father's heir apparent." He replied.

She didn't want to believe this was true. All this time she had been afraid that Lyarra would try to claim Winterfell as her own, and Ned had assured her that it would not happen, that Robb was his heir and no one could displace his position as it. But here came Jon, the one man in Westeros that had a stronger claim to Winterfell than her eldest son.

She looked at Ned, expecting him to deny the young man before them, to at least defend Robb's claim but he simply stood with a blank face.

"Ned, surely you are not considering giving him what he wants?!" She exclaimed. "Robb is your heir! He has been taught how to rule, how to run the North. You cannot take that away from him; all his life he has believed he will one day inherit Winterfell, if you take this from him he will be crushed!"

"He will still rule, but not from Winterfell. I will grant him another keep, and if he feels slighted, he will get over it, Robb will soon be a man he will understand the laws of succession." Her husband responded calmly.

"He is your son! You cannot do this, I will not let you."

"You forget yourself! I am Lord of Winterfell, my word is law. Do not question my decision, not this one. Until a time comes when Jon acts against the laws or interest of the North, he will always have the strongest claim." He husband responded coldly.

Stepping between the two of them, Jon tried to calm the two down. "My lady, Robb might be your eldest son but he is not my father's. I am. I have not met him yet, and so have no grudge against him; this is not personal, it is a matter of the law. The law of Succession dictates that the eldest trueborn son or daughter of a lord will inherit his lands and titles unless another heir has been chosen. As the eldest son of House Stark…"

"I did not ask for your input!" She interrupted him harshly, a glare pointed directly at the young man who had spoken.

Ned looked to Jon with a sympathetic expression on his face. "Give us a minute son, wait for me outside and I'll call for you after I settle this."

Cat saw the man give his father a nod before making his away out of the solar. She could not believe her husband and what he was about to do. This was their son, and he was willing to take away his inheritance. Robb did not deserve that, he did not deserve to be pushed aside like some old ornament.

She thought that Ned was a good man, he had promised her after their fight about Lyarra that no one would usurp Robb's position, but here he was handing it out to that boy. When her marriage was arranged to Brandon it was agreed that a son of House Stark and Tully would rule the North. It seems she would have to remind Ned of that.

"I do not want to fight with you Cat, so leave this be. I have made up my mind and noth…" He was saying when she interrupted him; she knew it was not a good idea but a red hot firey rage was running through her blood that would not calm until she said her mind.

"When my betrothal was arranged to Brandon your father agreed with my own that a child of houses Stark and Tully would rule the North, if he were here…"

"BUT HE ISN'T! NEITHER OF THEM ARE! If you hadn't noticed they are both dead. Brandon's recklessness got him killed and when my father tried to fix the situation he was MURDERED BY THAT DAMN MAD KING!" Ned thundered, face red with anger. "Do not talk as if you knew them, you didn't know a damn thing about any of them, nothing at all. My father knew honour and he knew the law, he would not allow personal feelings to dictate his actions; and Brandon, he never wanted to be Lord of Winterfell, if he had it his way he would have run away with Barbary and never looked back. But both knew that duty came before desire. So don't you dare try to use them against me."

In all their fights Catelyn had never seen him this angry, he would go quiet and speak with the cold of winter carried in his words. But this was the first time she saw him explode like this, she knew that bringing up his brother and father was mistake but she was so angry at him that she didn't care.

Seeing him like this brought up a seed of guilt, some part of her urging herself to calm down and apologise, but in the end the anger overcame the guilt and although she knew that what she would say next might ruin their relationship she could not find it in herself to care.

"You father might be gone but mine isn't. He made the deal, and if you will not uphold it he will make you. My father will hear of this and he will…"

"Your father is not the Lord of House Stark! He has no say in the dealings of the North! After what he did during the war, if he thinks he can make demands of House Stark ever again he is sorely mistaken. So go, tell him of what happened here. You have leave to travel to Riverrun where you will stay until I call for you."

She knew that there was no going back after this, and although a small part of her regretted what went down today, she would not apologise for her words. House Tully's words were 'Family, Duty, Honour' and she lived by them her entire life; Robb was her son, and Ned taking away his inheritance was a slight against that family. She would protect what should belong to Robb even if it meant going against Ned's wishes.

"Is that an order My lord?" She asked coldly.

"Indeed it is my Lady. You will leave in three nights." He responded just as coldly.

"I will be taking the children with me. I will not leave Rickon without his mother."

"Rickon may go, but the others will stay in Winterfell where they belong." He stated, hating that his youngest son would be leaving, but he would not deprive the babe of his mother. The others were at least old enough to have some independence. "A small host will accompany you to Riverrun. Half of them will stay with you at Riverrun for your and Rickon's protection."

"If that is all my Lord?" She said lowly, tired from all the arguing. When he gave the nod she turned and started making her way out of the room, just as she started to step through the door, hand still on the door knob, Ned's voice called out.

"Don't involve Robb in this. If your father has something to say he says it to me, and if he dare try and use my son against me remind him that Winter is Coming, and with it the full wrath of the North."

She did not respond to him only nodding her head in acknowledgment to his threat against her father. Continuing out of the room, she was once again stopped by her husband's voice. "Cat, I am sorry it had to be like this…"

"I know, me too…"

Saying this, she stepped outside into the corridor. Standing against the wall was Jon, he must have heard everything exchanged between her and Ned. As she walked past him she said lowly, "I hope you are happy with what you've caused."

Continuing out of the tower, she heard him utter a low response. "I never meant to come between the two of you, for this to happen."

As she made her way towards her chambers she could not stop the tears that came. As soon as she entered her chambers she collapsed and sobbed uncontrollably.

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 **That's a wrap. Thanks for being patient with me guys. Sorry that this chapter is a bit shorter than the rest, but hopefully you still find it enjoyable. I know Ned is a bit OOC but I just wanted to show that he isn't going to take threats from anybody, that he isn't weak and easy to manipulate. In this fic he has the wolf blood of sorts but it only surfaces when he gets really angry.**

 **What Hoster did during the war will be revealed in later chapters, its an idea that I thought could have happened in canon. Sorry to those who think that Catelyn was being over the top, but I don't really like her and I think that is how she would react, especially since Ned had previously promised her that Lyarra would not usurp Robb's claim, only for Jon to come.**

 **Anyway thanks for reading and all the support you guys have been showing. Next chapter will be Robb and some of the other character's reactions to what is happening in the North.**


	5. Robb I

**Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire or any related works**

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 **Robb I**

 **296 AC**

Robb was busy training with the Umbers when one of the guards had interrupted them and told them his father had summoned him, Lady Mormont and Lord Umber to his solar. Robb was also instructed to round up his siblings and bring them with him.

Seeing as Arya was in the training yard with Lady Mormont, he left her to leave with the guest Lords while he left in search of Sansa and Bran.

He went to the Sept first to find his sister. Arya had told him that she would still be there with the septa and other girls for their lessons.

When he arrived there, Sansa was sitting with her friends in a close huddle giggling non stop. He let out a sigh. He couldn't understand how girls could just sit around all day knitting and gossiping. His mother had always said women had no place on battlefields but when he looked at lady Mormont, he didn't know how she could say that.

The lady of Bear Island was as good a fighter as any of the men in Winterfell. Although he hadn't seen her fight to her full extent, from what he had seen the She-Bear's attacks were deadly and ferocious.

He needed to be active, constantly moving, training, exploring. He knew he would die of boredom if he was ever forced to sit and knit.

Clearing his mind, he remembered the reason for coming here and so with an apologetic smile to the Septa for interrupting her lesson he moved over to Sansa and motioned for her to follow him.

"Robb where are we going?" Sansa asked once they were out of the Sept.

"We need to find Bran first and then to father's solar. He summoned all of us there."

For what he did not know. Perhaps it had to do with the man from that morning. When he had seen his father explode in anger, he had been shocked to the core. Never before had he seen such an outward display of anger from his father.

The first place they looked for Bran was in the Godswood, he liked to spend time there climbing the branches of age old trees. When they didn't find him there Sansa suggested looking for him at the stables.

Bran dreamed of becoming a knight one day, and for that he needed to know how to ride.

It turned out that he was in fact at the stables. When the two had arrived there they saw their younger brother atop his pony trotting around the space in front of the stables, while Hullen guided and watched over him.

"Bran" he called out, "father wants us. Time to finish your lesson."

Bringing the pony to a stop, Hullen lifted the young lord off of the mount and placed him on the ground.

After thanking Hullen and allowing his little brother some time to lead his pony back into the stables, the three made their way to their father's solar.

Arriving there, Robb noticed Alyn and Arya waiting outside the solar. "Where are father's bannermen? Were they not supposed to be with you?" He asked Arya

"They are already in there with Father and some other man. He said I had to wait outside for you."

Seeing as he was there now, he nodded to Alyn to let his father know that they were waiting him. Once they were called in Robb immediately noticed GreatJon and Maege standing around the round table with his father and another man.

The man was taller than his father but nowhere near the height of the Umber lord, he was lean of build and had dark brown locks that fell to his shoulders. But the thing that he noticed the most was the man's piercing violet eyes, it was if their gaze was piercing straight through him.

He was wearing a long cloak with what looked to be simple black leather doublet underneath accompanied by simple trousers and riding boots. Pinned to the breast of the doublet was a silver brooch; it looked familiar but he couldn't place where he had seen it before.

Around his waist was a belt that held a sheath in which, what looked to be a longsword. He couldn't see the hilt but the sheath itself looked to be expensive and of high quality.

Judging by his clothes and possessions, he knew that this man had to be either highborn or and extremely wealthy smallfolk. The sword sheath alone looked like it would cost quite a few gold dragons, and most of the small folk went all their lives without ever seeing a single gold dragon. Therefore he had to be highborn, but he wasn't wearing any visible crests or signs of which house he could belong to, so Robb had no idea who he was or where he was from.

"Father, you called us?" He stated once was finished taking in the appearance of the man.

"Yes. I want you and your siblings…" Before his father could finish his sentence Arya interrupted, walking up to the stranger and bluntly asking, "Who are you?"

Looking down at his little sister, the man took a moment to look her over before turning to his father and letting out a deep chuckle. "She sure is like her isn't she." He said. The man's accent was of the North but it also held a tinge of another, one which he knew not.

In response to the man's statement his father let out a small, sad smile. "Sometimes it's like looking straight into the past."

"Hey! I asked you a question!" Arya interrupted the two, hitting the man on the arm.

"Arya!" Their father exclaimed. "What have I told you about this. If you had let me finish, I was about to introduce the lot of you to him."

Arya hung her head in shame at the scolding. While her head was still bowed the man placed his hand on her head and rubbed it affectionately. "Don't worry little lady, you be who you want to be, don't let anybody change the way you are, not even this old man here." He finished looking towards their father with a cheeky smirk.

While Arya stared up at him in awe, the northern lord and lady let out booming laughter. "You gonna let the youngster talk to you like that Ned?" GreatJon let out.

In response his father simply gave the giant of a man a smirk. "He'll see how old I am after I beat his arse into the ground, then we'll see what he has to say."

"Anyway, let's get back to why I called you children here." Ned said. "I want you to meet this man here, his name is Jon, and he's your eldest brother."

As soon as he said it, he and his siblings all let out a gasp of shock. For Arya and Bran, that shock didn't last long, they were excited that they had another brother. While he and Sansa stood in shock, their two younger siblings were bombarding their father and apparent brother with questions on why they never knew Jon, or why he wasn't in Winterfell.

"You're that Jon, the one Lyarra and father told us about, aren't you?" He managed to speak as the shock wore off.

Jon nodded in response to his question. "Wait you knew about him!? How come you never told us!?" His youngest sister shouted.

Bran and Arya had never really known about Jon. His mother had never liked talking about his father's previous wife or children, and by the time the two were old enough to be told, Lyarra had left to be fostered already and so the topic had never come up.

Thinking on it now, he supposed that was where he had seen that broach before. His father had given Lyarra the exact same one when she had been wed to Torrhen.

Looking at him now, Robb could definitely see the resemblance. If it wasn't for the eyes Jon would look almost like a copy of their father. Whereas Lyarra had taken after her mother, it seemed Jon took after father.

"Don't blame your brother. He never knew I was alive. No one did." Jon was saying to Arya and Bran. "Not even father or Lyarra knew."

"Anyway Jon, this is Robb, Sansa, Arya and Bran." Father said as he pointed to each of them.

Jon once again greeted them and for a while they all stood there and talked. He and his siblings would ask Jon questions, some of which he answered, others he told them they were too young to hear. Every so often father's bannermen would pipe up and ask Jon some of their own questions.

They had learnt that he had been living in Essos for all these years. When he had told them that he had served in the Company of the Rose, the GreatJon had gotten excited and started to bombard Jon with questions on what it was like and what he did under them.

He could see Bran, Arya and even Sansa were confused. Non of them knew what the Company of Roses were, the first two were still quite young and would only start learning about Essos and the culture over on the eastern continent. He had already started those lessons along with war strategy and history.

He remembered that the Company of the Roses was a sellsword company based in Essos, that was formed by Northerners who refused to bow to Aegon the Conquerer. They weren't the biggest group but they were amongst the strongest. Rumour was that the command of the company was passed down, most of the time, from father to son. The first commander was said to be Brandon Snow, the bastard brother of Torrhen Stark.

When Torrhen refused to allow his brother to cross the Trident and attempt to kill the dragons, Brandon had told him that he would help sue for peace but once that was done he would leave the North.

So he had helped his brother, and when the time came he left the North and never looked backed.

"Jon?" He asked. "Is it true that all the commanders in the company are descendants of Brandon Snow?"

"No, not anymore. It used to be like that, but the current commander is not a descendent. You see the last one was a man by the name of Harlon, he was commander when I first joined, but a few years back, while we were fighting in the Undisputed Lands he was killed during one of our battles." He replied. "You see, usually the commander would train their eldest child, girl or boy, to take command of the company when they die, but commander Harlon never sired any children, so when he died there was no one to take up the position. The company serjeants and division commanders held a vote, and woman by the name of Taena Aneraan won."

"What's the Company of the Rose!?" Arya exclaimed. Robb realised that she had been standing there, face gradually getting angrier as they had talked. He laughed to himself for a bit, he's little sister was like no other woman he knew.

Robb saw Jon direct a questioning gaze towards their father as if asking him if it was ok to tell her what the company was. When he's father gave a nod of consent Jon answered Arya.

"Well, the company is a sellsword group. In other words they are soldiers for hire."

"That's so cool!" Arya exclaimed "Father, won't you let me join them? Then I won't have to get married and become a stupid Lady!"

"Ha! I think not young lady." Father replied. "You'll stay here in Winterfell where I can keep and eye on you."

"So lad what was your rank in the company?" It was GreatJon who had asked this question, and judging by looks on the others' faces, they too were curious to know.

"Well, I started out as an apprentice blacksmith, but when I turned ten and four they started training me in combat, and by the time I had left I was the company's First Sword."

"First Sword? What that?" This time it was Bran that had asked the question.

"The First Sword is the one in charge of the infantry. They make sure the soldier have all their weapons and armour in good condition, are in charge of bringing their concerns up to the company commander and when the time comes, to lead them on the battlefield."

It seemed that for the next hour they had been talking. Jon was telling them all stories from when he was away, about how he had learnt smithing and building. How he had travelled all across Essos and had even fought against a Khalasar. When Bran had asked him if he had saved any princesses or saw any dragons Jon had laughed a little and patted the boy on he's head telling him how he hadn't done either of those things yet. But he did say that he had come across a boy who thought he was a dragon and was trying to fly to Westeros.

Robb noticed that when he said that, a dark look crossed over their father's face. He didn't know what it was about but judging from the look it couldn't have been good.

It was almost time for the feast when he's father had spoken up and told them that they needed to go wash and prepare for tonight. Before they left Jon stopped them and told them he had gifts for them. He reached to his belt and pulled out a small purse, and pulled out four leather chords. Hanging from the cords were silver wolf heads with red eyes. Jon had said that he had made it himself and wanted to give one to each Stark child.

They looked amazing. Frightening yet noble. Jon said that he wanted all of them to share something, that even if they were only half siblings, they would always remember that they were family. He said a phrase that Robb had heard his father say many times before. "When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives."

Just as he was about to leave behind his siblings, Robb heard his father's voice call out.

"Robb, hold on, there's something I need to tell you."

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

Robb didn't know how to feel. He was sitting at the feast surrounded by family and friends, but he wasn't happy. When his father had asked him to stay back he had no idea what it was for, but then to be told that he was losing his position as heir. But what made it worse was when he revealed that his mother would be leaving for Riverrun and would be staying there until told otherwise. He wasn't even angry about the entire dispute over who was heir, it was the ordeal between his parents.

He loved both of them and he thought they loved each other, but now they were fighting, and House Stark and House Tully could be on the road to becoming enemies. All of this because of him and Jon.

He was brought of his thoughts when Theon knocked him on the shoulder. "Hey, you alright?" He friend asked him. "You seem a bit out of it."

Even his younger siblings were looking at him weirdly, usually he would be laughing and enjoying the feast, after all it was the first time his father had allowed him to have a cup of ale.

"I'm fine, just thinking."

He's siblings hadn't been told what had happened between their parents, just that their mother would be leaving with Rickon to spend sometime with Grandfather Hoster in Riverrun.

The growing noise in the hall was getting to much for him, and he was about to stand and leave when he's father stood from his seat and commanded absolute silence from the room.

"As many of you know, I summoned Lord Umber and Lady Mormont to Winterfell in order to discuss new arrangements and dealings between our houses. None can dispute the loyalty and devotion that these two houses have towards House Stark, which is why they can be trusted with the fostering of two of my children."

Robb had to let out a smile at this, the two houses were some of the most prominent and loyal bannermen that the Starks had, and he knew that Arya and Bran would enjoy and learn a lot from their time with the Mormonts and Umbers respectively.

"Bran is always speaking of how he wants to become a strong knight one day, and I can think of no man more worthy or capable of teaching my son than the GreatJon. A fierce warrior and capable commander, Jon Umber has proven his worth a hundred times over, not only during the wars when he saved my life numerous times, but also in his service to the North. I trust him to turn my son into a warrior and man worthy to call himself a northerner." His father continued.

At this a huge cheer erupted throughout hall, led by the boisterous voice of Lord Umber who was praising his father and House Stark, promising to look after Bran and make him the best warrior the North would ever see. Looking to Bran, he saw that his brother had a big smile on his face. When he had first met the hulking lord he had been a bit frightened, but as the time went on, he grew to admire him, especially when he would take them into the yard and show them sword skills with his massive great sword.

Robb hoped his brother would be happy. He wanted his younger siblings to live happily even if it meant he had to give up his own happiness.

Once it began to quiet down once again, his father continued with his announcement. "As all of you know, my youngest daughter refuses to do anything I ask of her." At this he sent a smirk at Arya, who sent one right back at her father, while the rest of the hall burst out in laughter.

"The south believe women should be subservient, that they should stick to sowing and running castles, that they shouldn't fight. But we in the north don't believe in that; our women are the fiercest there are."

Again the hall erupted in noise with the She-Bear's voice rising above all others. "Hear! Hear!"

"Ever since the Old Bear took the black, Maege has been running Bear Island and House Mormont, and with it she has brought an influx of warrior women, setting an example to the rest of Westeros, that all in the North are strong. We don't need silks and fancy drawings to live. No! We survive off the skin off our back and the strength of our hearts." He's father roared. "The Lady Mormont is one of the North's fiercest warriors and I can think of none more capable of teaching my daughter the way of the sword."

Arya looked absolutely ecstatic. She was jumping up and down, eventually running over to their father and giving him a bear hug. The rest of the hall laughing at the young Stark's reaction to the news.

"Two more announcements before we can get back into our feast. Some of you may have seen construction occurring just north of Wintertown, and were wondering what it was. Well we're building a tournament arena. Robb's namedays will be upon us in a few moons and to celebrate we'll be holding a tourney in Winterfell, the largest the North has ever seen. All the houses of the North will be invited to participate, and the house that has the most winners from each major division will have the opportunity to ask House Stark for one favour. If it is in my power to grant it, you shall have what you ask. So train hard and fight for your house because whoever wins will be remembered for ages to come."

The cheer that overtook the Great Hall was the largest one yet, the guards and the rest of the guests were all overcome with anticipation to prove their worth. Robb appreciated what his father was doing in his honour, but at the moment he just didn't feel up to it. It was almost as though he was only throwing this tourney to make up for the news he had received, and Robb didn't want that. He didn't want pity.

Knowing what his father's next announcement would be, Robb told Theon he was going to get some air and conspicuously made his way out of the Hall and towards the training yard, he needed to hit something badly.

He stayed in the same spot slashing at the training dummy for about half an hour before he heard footsteps entering the yard. Turning around he saw Jon standing there watching as he worked the sword against the training dummy. Jon gaze seemed to hold a questioning look as if to ask if he would be willing to talk.

Nodding his head and beckoning his brother over, Robb returned to his training. Jon was standing behind him when he first spoke. "You know, its easier to get more power behind your slash if you widen you stance. Place you leading hand above your other and twist your body as you bring the sword down."

Doing as his brother suggested, Robb found he was able to slash harder than before.

"I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. I never meant for any of this to happen." Jon said in an apologetic tone.

"I'm ok and i's not your fault. If anybody is to blame for this situation it's me." He responded.

"Don't say that, none of this is your fault, you're still a child. The blame lays entirely with me… If you don't mind, I want to take you somewhere."

Nodding his head in consent, Robb placed the training sword back in one of the barrels by the armoury and made to follow his brother.

Jon lead them out of the courtyard and towards the Godswood. Once inside the three acre woods he led them straight towards centre where the Heart Tree stood. Sitting down on the rock next to the tree, Jon motioned for Robb to join him.

Sitting down next to his brother, he listened as the birds sang and the leaves ruffled. After a few moments of silence Robb spoke up. "You know father always come here, he sits on this exact rock and cleans Ice."

"He still does that, does he. You know when I was younger, before that damn war, Grandfather would bring me here. He would sit me on his lap and tell me stories of all the previous Stark Kings. My favourites were Theon Stark and Jon I Stark. He would tell me of the history of our house, and the duty we had to the North."

"What was he like, grandfather I mean?" Robb asked.

"To the rest of Westeros he was a cold man, hardened by years of wars and living in the harsh land that we do. But to his family he was great man." Jon responded with a wistful smile. "He loved his family above all else, and would do anything for them. He was always willing to make time for me, and if I ever had a problem I could always go to him. He would of loved you and the others, all of them would have, Uncle Brandon, Aunt Lya, Grandmother, they all would have loved you guys."

"What were they like?" He asked softly. Almost all of his Stark family, except for Uncle Benjen, had died during the war, and his father never spoke of any of them, so he was curious to know what they were like.

"I'll start with uncle Brandon. If there was one word to describe him it would be wild. He was always moving around, never staying still. He would either be out riding or fighting with the household guard. He was reckless but a good man. If you want to know what aunt Lya was like all you have to do is look at Arya, they both act the exact same way. Aunt Lya was never happy with the way Westeros perceived women, she wanted to be able to do what she wanted without anybody telling her otherwise, oh and she loved riding, out of all them she was the best rider. She was joyful, energetic and most of all very protective. It was at the Tourney at Harrenhal, a crannogman, one of our grandfather's bannermen was being mocked, shoved and kicked at by three squires. The crannogman was older than them but he was too small to defend himself and his only weapon had been stolen from him. So when aunt Lya and I came across them, she ran up to them and beat them all away with a tourney sword and helped tend to the man's wounds."

Robb smiled a bit at the story of his uncle and aunt, before he asked Jon a question that suddenly arose. "Did the man ever get revenge on the squires for what they did to him?"

"Sort of. You see when we took him back to our tent to tend to injuries, father, uncle Brandon and uncle Benjen were all there. Aunt Lya wanted to attack the squires and give them a beating in retribution for the crannogman, but uncle Brandon and father forbid her from doing so in fear of the consequences it would have on the North. So she did something else, something nobody would expect." Jon said voice lowering down to a whisper. "She ordered uncle Benjen and I to bring her armour and a shield with some paint, so we did, and she took the armour and painted her shield with the image of a Heart Tree. She took on the persona of 'The Knight of the Laughing Tree' and she joined the joust, beating all three of the squires and getting revenge for young crannogman."

Robb was in awe of his late aunts actions. Father had never spoken of her and whenever they would ask him about her an expression full of pain would overcome his face and he would simply shake his head and tell them 'another time'. It was nice to finally be able to learn what his deceased family members were like.

"You know, I brought you hear so we could talk a little, but also to explain why I'm doing this." Jon said solemnly.

"You don't have to explain anything to me, its fine." He responded.

"Yes I do. You're my brother, I owe you an explanation. Those stories that grandfather told me, well when I was younger I never understood why he was telling them to me, I always thought they were just to make me happy. But as I got older I started to understand what he was trying to tell me; it was that every Stark has a duty to the North, as the overlord to all our vessels, we owe them certain responsibilities, and sometimes in order to fulfil those responsibilities we need to make sacrifices. Theon Stark sacrificed his humanity in order to protect the North from Andal invaders."

"I don't really understand." Robb replied.

"You might not now, but hopefully as you grow older you will begin to. You know when my mother told me I was getting a sibling, I was ecstatic. I would finally be a big brother, and then when I learnt I had even more siblings, I knew I had to come back as soon as possible. Even though we don't share the same mother, you are my brother and I will protect all of you to my dying breath. That's why I must succeed father. Because at some point as Warden of the North, we will be forced to make a decision that may pit us against everything we believe in, against the very people we protect. I won't let you live a life where everything is planned for you, where you will be forced to make decisions that may break you." Jon stated passionately. "I want all of you to live your life the way you want to, to love who you want to love and to grow old watching over your children and your children's children. If the time comes where a decisions needs to be made that either makes or breaks us, I will not have you or the other make that decision, and I know that if I ever go to far, if I ever become a monster, that my brothers and sisters will be there to stop me, to fix my mistakes. I know it may sound selfish of me, that I'm just using this as an excuse to get power, but I've seen what lordships can do to people and if there is even a chance of it happening to you, I would rather take it upon myself."

Robb stayed quiet. He was still young and he didn't really understand everything his brother was telling him, but he wanted more than anything to trust him, to tell him that he believed in him, and that he just wanted a brother, someone he could talk to and confide in, someone he could go to for advice.

"I know that it's hard to understand, but hopefully as you get older you'll begin to make sense of what I've said tonight. And I know I can't expect to suddenly enter your life as a brother, so how about this, how about we start of as friends and hopefully one day I can be your brother?" Jon asked softly.

He nodded his head in reply, that's what he wanted, he knew that it would be strange between the two of them for a while, but hopefully one day they could have the brotherly bond he desired.

The two of them stayed there for the rest of the night, talking about themselves, telling each other their likes and dislikes, their dreams and what they wanted to achieve. When he fell asleep Jon had wrapped his cloak around him and laid him down between the roots of the Heart Tree.

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One moon had passed since Jon's arrival and a lot had happened in that time. His mother had sadly left for Riverrun with Rickon, they had met Jon's friends Asher and Igmund, Jon had gone to Karhold and reunited with Lyarra and he and his brother had grown a lot closer; there was still some tension but they were making progress.

Jon said that there was another friend of his that he wanted all of them to meet, but at the moment they were somewhere else. When his father had gotten reports from the Glovers that all the deer and elk were being forced into the deeper parts of the forest by a new predator, Jon had let out a laugh that he tried to hide with a cough but they had all heard it.

When their father questioned Jon on whether he knew what was pushing the deer and elk in to hiding, he simply said he would put a stop to it, but it would take some time before he could show them the cause.

Right now he, Theon and Jon were all preparing to leave for Sea Dragon Point. Jon had been given leave by their father to scout out the land for potential new jeeps to be erected on. He insisted that Sea Dragon Point was perfect already, mainly because of its position, fertile lands and the fact that it was where ancient strongholds once stood.

Jon had said that he was definitely going to be building a keep there, all he needed was to get a look at the grounds and the area available to build in. He said that he also wanted to go around to the few fishing villages that occupied Sea Dragon Point and talk to the towns people.

Father had organised for one hundred soldiers to accompany them. They would be split into groups by Jon and sent to retrieve the necessary materials and start the construction.

On their way to the place Asher left them and headed towards Ironrath where he would reunite with his family. He would be staying there until the tourney, at which he would return to Winterfell and Jon's side.

It was just when they had reached the halfway point of their journey when Robb had gotten the biggest surprise of his life. They had set up camp for the night and where sitting around a fire, one of the men telling stories of how the influx of wildlings was increasing quicker than ever before.

He was telling them about how when he was posted at Last Hearth, Lord Umber had sent them to patrol the lands and they would come across bands of wildlings every few days. It was the most he had ever seen in his life he had said. He had been listening to the man so intently that when he turned towards his brother his heart stopped; he hadn't heard or seen the massive wolf that had snuck up behind him.

"Jon!" He called out in fear for his brother. "Behind you!"

His brother snapped his head back to look behind him. When he saw what it was he calmly got up and stood before the animal. While this was happening the rest of the men scrambled to get their swords and bows out.

Before any of the men could make a move Jon stuck is hand in the air and told the, not to move and ordered no one to shoot the animal.

"What the fuck is that thing!?" He heard Theon say beside him. "Look at the size of it. It's a freak."

Looking more closely at it Robb noticed its legs were longer and head larger than a normal wolf, its muzzle was also longer and more pronounced. It was larger than any wolf he had ever seen, not by much, but still larger.

"It's a Direwolf." Jon called out.

Robb was in shock. Maester Luwin had told them that direwolves were extinct, that one hadn't been sighted south of the wall for two hundred years. Theon had decided to voice his thoughts because just as they came to him his best friend spoke up.

"That's impossible, direwolves haven't been seen south of the wall for two hundred years."

"Trust me, he's a direwolf." Jon said with amusement evident in his tone. "Isn't that right Ghost?"

What happened next almost made him recoil in shock. The wolf stalked forward and gave Jon a heavy headbutt to the stomach. It had enough force behind it to knock his brother to the ground. Before he knew it the wolf was standing over Jon, muzzle above his face. Just as he was about to call for the men to kill the animal he noticed he's brother laughing. The wolf wasn't attacking him, it was licking his face.

All he and the others could do was stare at the scene before them in shock.

"Jon." He called out. "Mind explaining this."

Pushing the wolf off of him, Jon stood up and dusted the dirt off of his clothes. "This is Ghost, he's the friend that I told you I wanted you guys to meet."

"But he's a direwolf! How did you even get one."

"Well I found him as a pup when I was north of the wall. You see he was the runt of the litter and his mother and pack had abandoned him. So when me and the others came across him, I decided to bring him with us and take care of him."

"But his a direwolf! How did you tame him?" It was Theon this time that asked the question.

"Oh, he's not tame by any means. If Ghost felt like it he could kill any of you right now." Jon answered. "No wolf can ever be tamed. He's as wild as any of them, but he just so happens to like me. You see we have a bond. Isn't that right you lazy shit."

In response to Jon's playful taunt, Ghost locked his jaws around his brother's leg and pulled him to the ground placing his paws on top of Jon's chest as if to show his superiority.

"I'm kindling, I'm kidding!" Jon laughed as he once again had to get up from under his wolf companion.

"Anyway, when I first came to Winterfell I couldn't exactly bring Ghost with me into the city, so I left him out in the Wolfswood and he's been exploring it ever since. He was the one who was chasing the deer and elk into hiding. Though now that I look at him, his grown so much since I last saw him. Before he was only the size of a dog, now look at him."

When they continued travelling Ghost stayed at Jon's side up until the point they realised that he was scaring the horses, so Jon sent him ahead of them. It was amazing and unnerving if he was honest with himself. To see a direwolf and know that it was loyal to his brother, it absolutely astounded him.

It took them a few days to finally arrive at the point, and when Robb first saw it he was amazed. He had never been this far west before and he had to admit, it was a sight to see. The area was thinly populated and was filled with hills and bogs. On the highest hills stood weirdwood circles, and ruins of ancient strongholds dotted the landscape. They weren't big but Jon had said that they would help for laying the foundations of the new Keep and surrounding buildings.

After a few days of taking the necessary measurements and drawings Jon set the men to work. Twenty of the men were sent to the mountain clans in order to bring stone masons and supplies from the Stark bannermen, while the rest of the men were put to work repairing and widening the moat that had previously been built for an ancient stronghold.

Jon had decided to place the castle on top of the largest hill, where another Keep had once stood. The foundations for the keep were already laid, and the moat already dug out, all that he had wanted to do before starting construction on the walls and buildings was widen the moat.

As the days went by more and more workers trickled in from around the north. Men from the houses of the Wolfswood coming in as woodsmen, chopping down trees to supply the wood, stone masons from the mountain clans bringing with them large supply wagons filled with stone, crannogman to help build around the bogs, and more from all over. By the third week about three thousand workers were there, majority of them smallfolk looking for a pay, and still more were coming in everyday.

Jon had said that they would be ready to start on the construction on the outer walls for the city that would be constructed below the Keep, as well as the inner wall of the Keep itself. Jon had already started men on the walls surrounding the Godswood, he had decided that two acres would be more than large enough and had put men to the task of building a circular wall around the woods with one of the weirdwood circles at its centre.

The Godswood would be about 600 hundred yards away from the centre of the castle, so as to give the workers enough space to add in any extra buildings that needed to be built. According to Jon they were making good progress, but it would still take a long time before the castle and town were completely finished.

Watching his older brother work truly was inspiring. The way he interacted with the small folk and all the workers was amazing. He didn't hold his noble status over them, instead he worked besides them, treating them as equals.

He honestly hoped that he would be like his brother when he was older, that he would have the love of the people as Jon did. So he decided he would try and start then, he went to his brother and demanded that he be allowed to help in the construction. Jon agreed and had him placed with the stone masons who were shaping the stones into large bricks.

So he worked for close to a moon with his brother. At first it was difficult and he struggled to keep up with the grown men, but they had helped their young lord get through, that by the end of it he could proudly say that he had truly helped build something new, something that would probably stand long after his death.

His name day would be coming up in about another moon, so Jon had told him and Theon to head back to Winterfell so they could prepare for the tournament and receiving guests. He told them that he would be heading back shortly, he just needed to make sure everything was in order and the men knew what to do without him.

Although a lot of the workers would be travelling with them to Winterfell for the tournament, there were still quite a few that would be staying to continue on with the work.

So Robb and Theon saddled their horses and left with their guards towards Winterfell. By the time they arrived back at the castle, he could see servants running around trying to arrange for everything before the guests started to arrive.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark haired woman standing talking to the Gage. Turning around to get a good look at who the woman was, he saw the violet eyes and immediately started to run over to her.

"Lya!" He shouted in excitement.

He saw her turn around towards him, and open her arms just as he crashed into her. A wide smile on her face, she placed a kiss on his forehead. "Robb, its good to see you again little brother."

"Hey! You're only one year older than men." He responded. Whenever he was around his older sister, he always felt like they were still children running around Winterfell and playing in the crypts.

"How come you're so early?" He asked her.

"Well father asked me to help organise the feasts and the lot. He's been so busy lately, and with Jon back, he just hasn't had time to get everything done. So I decided to come down so I could see my cute little brother before all the girls start arriving and take you away." She said with a teasing smirk.

"How's the baby?" He said looking down towards her bulging stomach.

"Maester Luwin had a look at me earlier, he said the everything was ok, and it shouldn't be too long before your niece or nephew pops into this world." She said with a smile. "Anyway, run along now. I have lots of work to do and you need to go help father. I'll talk with you later."

With a nod to his sister, Robb left to go help his father prepare for the upcoming celebrations. He had been to a one or two tourneys before, but never had he ever competed in one. He would only be ten and three but he wanted to enlist in some of the events; he knew that since this would be the biggest tournament in the North, the best warrior would be participating and he wanted to test himself against those people so that everyone would see that one day he would be one of the best. If he couldn't rule the North then he would be the best damn sword and shield it had to offer.

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 **That's all for this chapter guys, hopefully the next one can be posted soon, but we'll see. Longer one this time I hope it makes up for the last chapter.**

 **Anyway next one will be the Tournament at Winterfell. Hopefully you guys will like it; I think I'll do just one chapter to cover the entire tournament, and maybe from different POVs as well. But after the next one we'll have a time skip to the beginning of canon.**

 **Also one last thing, as you guys may have noticed, the North is a quite a bit stronger and more powerful in this story. With the formation of more cities in North quite a few small folk and refugees fled their, as well as more people having more children as tends to happen after wars.**

 **In regards to the wealth of the North, when Ned took over, as stated in one of the previous chapters, he struck trade deals with the some of the free cities and especially has a good relationship with Braavos. The North is in no way as rich as the Westerlands, but they aren't as poor as they are in canon.**

 **Thanks again for support you guys have continually showed the story.**


	6. The Tourney at Winterfell

**Hey there guys, sorry for the late update, I've just finished exams, and have until August until I go back to uni, so hopefully I'll be able to get a few extra chapters out before then. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice &a Fire or any related works.**

 **Jon II**

 **296 AC**

He had just arrived back at Winterfell after spending about close to two moons at Sea Dragon Point. The construction of the new castle and town had been going well, they had just finished laying the foundations for the wall around the Godswood and the inner walls around the Keep, so they would soon begin building the actual structures.

They had already built all the cranes and structures that they needed to help them lifting the blocks and wood into position. It had been decided that in order to speed the process up wooden walls would be used for the Godswood but stone would be used for the castle walls.

When he had first come back, he had brought with him quite a few builders and architects that he had met during his time with the company. They had studied his designs and were now left in charge of the site until he returned. He trusted them to stick to his design and lead the many workers that had showed up to help build what he hoped would be one of his greatest legacies.

He was honestly surprised by the number of people that had come to work. He didn't remember that many people helping on the construction of Wintertown all those years ago, so he supposed that his father was doing a damn good job in running the North if they were getting that many new citizens.

When he had first arrived at the point, he went to each of the villages that occupied the area and spoke to the towns people on what they wanted. On how safe the area was, what the harvests were like and the weather that struck the point. They had said that the harvests were good, plenty of fish and grain with the fertile lands, but they also said that during the winters the weather was extremely hard on them, so many of the townspeople left for refuge in Wintertown. They said that it would be a big help on them if there were a Keep closer by that had the capacity to shelter them during winter.

That was why he decided that he would build the village below the keep. The people of the point would relocate to the village once it was completed and they would work the docks. In return they would receive shelter and food during the winter.

But one thing they said worried Jon. Apparently there were semi frequent raids on the nearby shores. Ships would come and dock on the beaches bringing men that would steal their women and take their possessions. According to some of them, it was happening as far down as the Stoney Shore.

He told them that he would look into it, and he would. He would talk to his father about getting Lord Manderly to send a few ships to patrol the west coast.

He had decided that the new castle would be a contrast to the white stone of White Harbour, it would be constructed from the dark basalt rock that once made up the wall of Moat Cailin. The Northern Mountain Clans had access to multitudes of basalt as there were a few small volcanoes that were littered around their territory.

While the castle and the towers would be made from stone, the other buildings such as the kitchens, armoury and stables would be constructed from ironwood. Jon wanted to speed the construction up and the closest thing to the strength of stone was Ironwood, so it was decided that because it was much quicker to shape and lay wood, the smaller buildings would be constructed from them.

He knew that he was only in the beginning stages of the construction but he was happy that everything was going along as he intended. Because of the size of the project it would still be a few years before it was all finished, and even then, he knew that who ever held the Keep would continue to make renovations of it. Just look at Winterfell, it was ten thousand years old and yet they were still working on it today.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard two childish voices screaming his name. Looking to the side he saw Bran and Arya running towards him trying to get in front of one another.

Bending down and giving them a hug as soon as they got to him, he spoke with pride. "Look at you two only a few moons since you left and I can already see how much you've grown." It was true, they had grown. They must have been drilled because he could already see that some of their baby fat had started to disappear.

"Where have you been? We got here and father said that you were away." Bran asked him.

"Arya you must have seen it." When his sister gave a nod he continued. "Well I've been working on building a new castle, maybe one day father will grant it to one of you."

His brother gave him a look of awe when he said this, but quickly shook his head and grabbed Jon's hand, dragging him in the direction of the training yard.

"C'mon." He said. "I have to show you what GreatJon's been teaching me!"

On their way to the yard Arya asked him a question he had been expecting to hear once he returned to Winterfell. "Jon… I heard some of the guards talking, and they said you have a pet wolf, a pet direwolf. Is it true!?"

When he nodded to her question. She let out a very unlike her shriek in excitement. "You have to let me see him! Is he vicious? Is he as big as a war horse? Can I ride him?"

Arya and Bran kept on bombarding him with questions about Ghost. Some of them were absolutely absurd, so he guessed the guards must have been exaggerating what Ghost actually looked like.

Stopping them from asking anymore questions he told them, "I put Ghost in the Godswood so we can go see him later and you can decide for yourself what you think of him. But first I want you guys to show me what you've learnt so far."

After they agreed to that, they continued on their way to the courtyard. Arriving there he noticed it was packed with people, some that he had never seen before, others such as SmallJon, Dacey, Cley, Torrhen, Harrion and Edd he knew.

Seeing Robb and Theon standing with them and two others, Jon decided to make his way over to them. Greeting those he knew he turned to Robb and motioned for him to introduce the other two to him.

"Jon, this is Domeric Bolton, Heir to House Bolton, and this is Daryn Hornwood Heir to House Hornwood." Robb said introducing them to each other. "Guys this is my older brother Jon, heir to Winterfell and the North."

After meeting the group and talking for a while, Jon found some open space and set his two young siblings up some leather armour and training swords. Telling them to fight one another, he stood to the side with the others and and observed their fight about to take place.

The first thing he noticed was that Bran favoured using a two handed sword. Even though he was using a wooden training sword he was handling it as though it were a great sword. He should have expected that considering who was training the boy, but it still surprised him that he's brother who had quite a slim stature would choose to train in to use a greatsword.

Looking at Arya, he could see that she used her speed more than power. She tended to attack and retreat over and over. But he could see that she looked almost uncomfortable holding the sword. Looking at her body size, it was probably too big and heavy for her, she needed something small and light.

He had a pretty clear idea about what he could do about it, but he would have to talk to his father about what they could do about it.

After watching the two go at it for about fifteen minutes, he stopped them and told them how proud he was of them for learning so much in such a short amount of time. He let them rest for a while before he told them that he would take the to meet Ghost.

The entire group had decided to tag along as well, interested to see the direwolf that everyone was talking about. When they arrived in the Godswood, Ghost was sleeping between the roots of Heart Tree; but as soon as they came within a few yards of him he opened his eyes and looked up towards them.

The group had been shocked when they saw Ghost, he had grown even more since Jon had reunited with him, and he was at the size that definitely placed him in a different category to normal wolves. He wasn't yet full grown, far from it if the books on direwolves were correct, but he was still quite large.

As soon as Jon gave Bran and Arya the go ahead to approach Ghost they did something that almost made him shit his pants. They ran straight at Ghost and hugged him around his abdomen. Ghost hated when anybody except he Asher touched him, every time somebody he didn't know would go near him he would snap at them, Jon was about to shout for them to get back when he saw that Ghost was in fact licking their faces.

He was shocked to say the least, the direwolf had never taken to anybody new that quickly, he was even a bit tense with Robb and Theon when he first met them. In actual fact he shouldn't have been surprised. Ghost had never acted out against anybody Jon hadn't seen as either an enemy or dangerous.

While the rest of them sat and talked, getting to know each other, Bran and Arya rolled about on the floor, roughhousing it with Ghost.

Before he knew a week and more had passed and it was finally Robb's nameday, he had spent most of the time either with the others he had met a week past or with his siblings, specifically Lyarra. They had gotten quite close in the time he had spent with her, she reminded him so much of his mother that at times he could truly imagine it was her.

He had also spent quite a bit of time in the library and with Maester Luwin, he had told the old maester about his dreams where he became a wolf, and the man had told him he remember reading a book that talked about that many years. So they had combed through the library in hopes that some book would be able to help them.

Eventually they had come across a book on the history of House Stark that detailed how his ancestors had conquered Sea Dragon Point by killing the Warg King, a skinchanger, and his sons but taking his daughters and marrying them into House Stark.

Other than the fact that they were allied with the Children of the Forest, the book told very little of anything else. Luwin had told him that the only other places that might have anything more detailed on skinchangers would either be at the Citadel or with the Night's Watch.

Evidently that was fin with him. He had been planning to go see his uncle after the tourney in the first place, all this meant was he would be spending a little more time then he thought there.

His father had also introduced him to all his bannermen, which was something. He didn't know how to explain it, some of them were how he expected, others… well he could only say you would only find people like them in the North.

Obviously he already knew GreatJon, Maege, and Medger. But he had been introduced to Rickard Karstark, Galbart Glover, Helman Tallhart, Barbary Dustin, her father Rodrik Ryswell, Lyessa Flint and Roose Bolton among the many others.

He fairly surprised by the Leech Lord, he had expected someone that with the same presence that the Mad King had given off, but the lord of the Dreadfort had shown him curtesy and honour.

When he had asked his father about Lord Bolton he had said that out of all the houses in the North, the Boltons were the one that had rebelled the most. That at any sign of weakness from the Starks they had struck. He said that in order for us to to keep the loyalty of Roose and his House, we needed to show that the Stark's power was absolute, that we were the strongest house in the North.

His father had told him that he and lord Bolton had fought together in both Robert's Rebellion and in the Greyjoy Rebellion. They had watched each other's back because they were both Northmen. Roose Bolton hadn't rebelled because his father hadn't showed any weakness, he had been absolute in the ruling of the North and for that they held a respect for each other.

But his father had told him that the respect Roose had for him didn't transfer over to Jon. He had to show House Bolton that he wouldn't be weak, he couldn't show them any openings or they would stab him in the back.

Fair to say, his week had been quite full on. He didn't really much time to himself, but that didn't bother him. He was finally with his family and he couldn't be any happier. He had even grown closer with Sansa who at first had been very stiff around him. It also helped that she had become smitten with Dom; she would swoon whenever he played his harp and sang, in the short time she had known him she already proclaimed that she loved him.

According to Robb though, she had said the same thing when Waymar Royce had spent a few days at Winterfell on his way to join the Night's Watch. So he wasn't entirely worried about the situation. But even then, Dom seemed to be a good man, in the time that they had spent together he had learnt that the Bolton heir loved music and riding, he didn't really tend to lean towards violence and cruelty.

Jon was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on the door. "Jon." Asher's voice called out. "Time to go, the tourney's starting soon."

"Alright, I'm coming." He called out as he grabbed his belt and sword before making his way out of the room. He had decided to move into one of the rooms in the First Keep, wanting to slowly make more use of the oldest building in Westeros.

The top floor he had renovated into his solar. A place he could retreat to when he felt like drawing designs or even just to help his father with any paperwork.

The keep was larger than the Great Keep. It was both taller and wider, never mind the vaults that lay beneath it. He prided himself on knowing the inside outs of Winterfell like the back of his hand, but when he's father had shown him the vaults he had gotten a shock.

He thought that he and his uncle and aunt had explored ever nook and cranny of the old castle but they had never found the vaults. He had known there were underground stores that were access from the ground floor of the building.

He's father had taken him into one of the stores and through a hidden door that led even further below Winterfell, straight into the heart of the vaults. He had said that only the lord of Winterfell even knew where it was, he had only found out because his father had told Maester Luwin where the vault was in case something did happen to him and Brandon when they went to King's Landing.

The vault was massive, it took up the space of the equivalent of one level of the crypts, which was quite big. Jon had been surprised to see what was in the vault; besides gold it held old sets of armour that he guessed were worn by previous lord and kings of his house, tapestries, what looked like ceremonial objects as well as items that looked to be trophies.

Don't get him wrong there was a massive amount of gold in the vault, much more than he had ever expected. When he asked his father how they had so much, he had told him that when Cregan Stark went south to fight in the Dance of Dragons and rule as Hand of the King, on top of the pact of Ice and fire, the crown had given him close to three hundred thousand gold dragons. Added to the fact that the North had struck up trade deals with the free cities, they had more money than the other houses of Westeros knew. In no ways were they nearly as rich as the Lannisters, but they weren't as poor as they use to be.

There were only two ways into the vault, one through the stores his father had taken him through, and the other through a door that was hidden behind the empty tomb of Brandon the Shipwright. In order to get access to that door, the statue of him had to be pushed to the away from the wall on which it rested against, which wasn't the easiest of jobs. So usually the entrance from the First Keep was used.

Other than the stores and the solar, the First Keep held quite a few sleeping chambers as well as a personal armoury and another library. He had filled those rooms with the various sets of armours and books that he had collected in Essos. Igmund had brought all of his possessions from the ship before he had left to trade some of the cargo they had picked up north of the Wall.

Making their way out of the keep, the two started the journey towards the tourney ground where Jon was hoping to win at least one of the events he had entered in.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

 **Asher I**

Being back in the North felt good. He hadn't realised how much he missed it while he was in exile. Sure he had missed his family, but being back in the cold air and riding through the wild plains and forests of the Wolfswood; there wasn't anything like it anywhere he had been.

When he had gone back to Ironrath he's father had been furious to see him back in the North. Shouting at him about how he would cause another feud between the Forresters and the Whitehills. When he had told him that Lord Stark had revoked his exile and had told him that if the Whitehills tried to start something, he would personally deal with it.

That had placated his father a bit, but he was still angry at him. He had almost caused the death of innocents from both houses because of his love for Gwyn. Thinking of her hurt, it had been a few years now since he's exile but he knew that he still loved her; he had hoped that she would be at Winterfell for the tourney, but he hadn't seen any Whitehill banners.

Currently he and Jon were making their way towards the tourney ground where Lord Stark would begin the celebrations for Robb's nameday. Robb reminded him a lot of Jon, although they were quite far apart in age they both held the same drive to protect their family. Meeting him reminded him of when he first met Jon, back when they were both serving in the company.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxFLASHBACKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

 **293 AC**

He and Beskha had been travelling around Essos for almost half a year before they decided that they needed to find a more constant stream of coin. So they agreed that they would track down The Company of the Roses and join them seeing as though they were started by northerners. He had heard that a lot of the Northmen had joined that company whenever they left their homes looking to live their life fighting.

Rumour had it that they were currently working for Lys, and would be moving to fight in the Disputed Lands soon. He knew that job would bring in plenty of coin so he and his companion were speeding on towards Lys. The ship they were on would soon arrive there, he just hoped that the company was still there.

When they arrived at the island Asher noticed the Company of the Rose's banner flying next to that of the Windblown. Tents were set up on the beaches of the island, from the walls of the city to the shore. Even from the dock he could see the command tents of the two companies. They were set up far apart from one another dividing the two sellsword groups but they were still visible, the Windblown command tent was a great grey sailcloth pavilion, while the Roses had a Snow White cloth with their standard on it, a crossed axe and mace behind a winter rose.

When he and Beskha approached the Company of the Roses' command tent five people had been sitting in it. "Who do I talk to if I want to join up?" He asked, interrupting their discussion.

One of the men, a tall figure with a long face and dark hair, looked to one of the other men in the tent. This one was younger than the rest of them, he looked to be around Asher's age maybe older, but not by much.

"Jon, see to this fool out." The first man said.

Nodding his head the man they called Jon got up from his seat and grabbed the two of them by the forearms, dragging them along as he proceeded to take them towards the harbour and out of the camp.

"You two have a lot of nerve walking up to us like that. You're lucky Harlon didn't slit your throats for interrupting that meeting." Jon said.

"We just want to join you guys. We're looking for some coin." Beskha told him. "Though I don't know why Asher wanted to join you guys, looking at the city your working for and what they do… I'd rather not join a company that does work for _them."_

As she said this Beskha was looking at the slaves walking from the gates, chain collars around their neck. Subconsciously she started to rub her neck where one once sat around her neck. When he had first met her she had told him that she was a former slave, and that she wanted nothing to do with it ever again. She was sick of answering to people who thought themselves superior to everybody.

"Not a fan of slavery are you." Jon stated. "Truth be told, I can't stand it myself. We don't usually take jobs for slavers but when this one came up… I tried to talk Harlon out of taking a contract with Lys but, the coin was too good to pass up. Told him we were better off working for Braavos, but he wouldn't have any of it."

"So why are you with the Roses then? If you don't agree with the slavers, why work for them? Or are you just in for the coinage?" He asked the man.

"Everybody has their reasons. I'm not doing it for the coin; some things are more important than wealth." Jon replied.

"First time I've ever heard a sellsword say something like that."

"Yeah well we Northerners come from a stronger cut than the rest."

"That's true" he responded with a smirk. "I'm Asher Forrester by the way, and this is my friend Beskha ."

"Names Jon… if you guys are serious about joining us I can help you out with that. We're about to move out to the Disputed Lands, and we could use every body possible. We're going up against the Golden Company so if you guys are willing to show your worth on the battlefield I can get you in."

He and Beskha looked to each other and silently agreed they would give it a shot, they had nothing to lose, and if they won and survived, they would probably earn some coin.

Giving Jon a nod to signify they were in, the three turned around and Jon lead them to one of the tents closer to the shore. Outside the tents were training dummies and archery targets with men practicing on both.

Leading them into the tent, Jon moved over to one of the chests and pulled out two hardened leather breast plates and two pairs of greaves. Giving them to the two, he instructed them to change into them and meet him outside for the beginning of their training.

For the next week the two spent almost all their times training with Jon, when he left for meetings with the other leaders of the company they would train with the master-at-arms of the company, Daralhar Choqu. He would run them through the formations that the Company usually used and the different codes and commands.

In the time between joining and them standing in the Disputed Land across from the Golden Company, he and Jon had begun to grow close, they would talk of the North and could argue like there was no tomorrow. Jon had even told him why he had joined the company in the first place, which was the first real thing he had learnt about the First Sword of the company other than his name.

He and Beskha were standing behind Jon as they stood before the ten thousand man golden army. There devision, numbering fifteen hundred, almost half of the available foot soldiers, were tasked with flanking the left side of the Golden Company's main host. They would focus on toppling the war elephants and killing as many infantry as possible while the other half of the foot would focus on the right flank and the cavalry would attack from the front. The Windblown would focus on the other enemy hosts littered around the different ruins of the Disputed Lands.

Standing there ready to charge, he called out to their leader. "Jon! We're probably going to die down there aren't we?"

He had meant it as a joke but he didn't think he would ever forget that look and what Jon had said in that moment. It was if an entirely different person was standing before him.

"No…" He had said softly, eyes as cold as ice. "I can't afford to die. Not until I get back to them... and until that time comes, I'll cut down any that threaten to prevent that."

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxEND FLASHBACKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

Although Robb was still young, he exuded the same presence that Asher had seen in Jon that day.

"Asher…" Jon called.

"Yeah?"

"Did you get the gift for Robb from Igmund before he left?"

"Yeah, I put it in my chamber before we left, I'll get it for you before the feast tonight." He replied to his friends question.

They had decided to give Robb the third mithril sword that they had found beyond the wall. Igmund had been offered it but since he used a greatsword, he told them to give it to someone else, otherwise it would simply sit and gather dust.

Because Jon had been so busy since they had come back to the North, he had gone to Mikken, Winterfell's blacksmith and armourer, and requested him to make a new hilt for a longsword. Jon had given him the design, and once Mikken had finished, they attached the blade to its new hilt.

Arriving at the arena, Jon and Asher made their way to the seats below the lord's of the north. Jon should have been sitting beside his father but he had decided he would sit with Asher and the others that they had befriended. After about an hour, almost all of the Lord's and Ladies of the North had arrived and taken the seats. The rest of the arena had been filled with smallfolk and the various other noble born.

"WELCOME, ALL OF YOU TO WINTERFELL FOR THE TOURNAMENT IN HONOUR OF MY SON ROBB'S NAMEDAY." Lord Stark's voice boomed throughout the arena as cheers roared out for the Robb. "AS YOU ALL KNOW, WE'LL BE HAVING FIVE EVENTS, THE JOUST, THE WOLFSWOOD RACE, THE ARCHERY, THE MELEE AND OF COURSE THE WRESTLING."

The crowd erupted in applaud and cheer to their lord's announcement. It was so loud he would have thought he was back on the battlefield. Looking up at Lord Stark, he noticed for the first time that Lady Catelyn had been standing behind him. He hadn't even realised she had returned to Winterfell, last he had heard she was still in the Riverrun but he guessed she must have come back for her son's nameday.

The joust was the first event of the day, and only about fifty men had entered, most from White Harbour, The Barrowlands and The Rills. He had decided he wouldn't compete in the joust, because although he could ride and considered himself quite good at it, he had no shame in admitting that he would lose to the knights of White Harbour and the barrowlands, and he didn't feel like losing his horse or armour.

The jousts continued on for a few hours, the riders putting on good shows enough to make the crowd roar every time one was ousted from their horse, eventually there were only eight riders left; Wendel and Wylis Manderly, Roger, Rickard and Roose Ryswell Jory, Hullen and Dom.

He had been really surprised watching Dom ride, he was perhaps the youngest out of all the contenders but he unhorsed all of his opponents in no more than two tilts. He and the others involuntary had to cringe every time Dom won because Sansa and the girls would start squealing and swooning for the Bolton heir.

The first round of the final eight was Wendel Manderly against Rickard Ryswell, and if there was one thing he could say about it was that it was utterly fascinating. Wendel was fat, not as big as his father or brother, but he was still fat. There should have been no way he could stay on his horse every time his opponent layed a hit on him, but he did. They ended up breaking three lances before Wendel had managed to overcome Rickard.

"Bets here! Bets here! Come here to place your bets!" He looked behind him and immediately laughed at the sight that greeted his eyes. There was Cley, Bran and Arya walking around with a ledger and coin purses. Cley was calling out for the people while Bran wrote down the bets in the ledger and Arya collected the money.

From what he could hear Roger Ryswell seemed to be the favourite to win the joust. So he decided he would bet on Dom to win. Calling over to Dacey, who was closest to Cley and the kids, he handed her 10 gold dragons and told her to ask Bran to put it on Dom.

After Roger beat his younger brother Roose and Hullen overcame Wylis after a five tilts, it was finally time for Dom to ride again. He was mounted on a horse that his grandfather had had gifted him, said it was the best horse bred in the Rills in the lest decade. Dom had said it was his pride and joy, he had ridden it whenever the opportunity arose. During the week leading up to the tournament their small group had taken a ride to the plains that ran next to the White Knife and Daryn had decided that they should have a race to see who was the best rider. All he could say was that Dom's horse was a beast. He had completely outdone all of them and he didn't even look like he was trying.

But the race through the Wolfswood was coming up after the joust and all of them had decided to sign up, even Robb. The young Stark had raced through those woods since he could ride, so he wouldn't be surprised if Robb beat a few of them.

When he had first heard that Lord Stark would be holding a tournament he had immediately went to Hullen and bought his finest and fastest steed. It had cost him quite a bit but hopefully he would be able to make it back by winning the race.

Pushing his thoughts aside, he focused his attention back on the joust happening in front of him. On the opposite side to Dom was Jory. He was the captain of the Stark Household Guards so he had to be at least decent, but Asher had never seen him ride before so he had no idea how his friend would do against the Stark man.

After three tilts, everyone knew that it could go either way. Both of the competitors were readying to charge down there lanes. The arena was silent, everybody holding their breathe in preparation for the next tilt.

The silence was broken by the sound of horses stampeding towards each other. To Asher it looked like it happened in slow motion, both lances hit. Dom's body bent back as though he was about to be unhorsed when he suddenly sprung forward holding onto the reins. The moment that Jory's body hit the ground the crowd erupted in cheers for the underdog of the competition.

The next matches weren't anywhere near as exciting as the previous. Wendel won out against Roger quite quickly. The large Manderly knight ran two tilts against his opponent before unhorsing him. Dom had a bit more trouble against Hullen, breaking three lances against him before managing to fell his opponent.

The final tilt was Domeric against Wendel. Looking over to Cley and his gang of misfits, Asher saw that they had more than two dozen coin purses, holding the bets of people from all over the arena. Considering they were children dealing with that amount of coin, Jon had sent Ghost to protect them from anybody that tried to pull one over them or steal the money. People tended to steer clear of the direwolf, because although he had been wondering around Winterfell and the Wintertown people just couldn't get use to a massive predator like that stalking the streets of the town without hurting anybody.

The match between the two heirs was not as expected. They seemed to be the exact opposites to each other, and that drew the joust out for almost half an hour. Because of Ser Wendel's size the hits that Dom landed had almost no effect on him, while the Manderly heir failed to hit Dom because of his slim form. Dom looked to have mastered dodging the lance at the last minute. Everybody had resigned to the fact that Wendel would win; all he needed was to land one hit on his opponent and he would win, with Dom's stature and the power Wendel could produce it would only take one hit clean hit to knock the Bolton heir from his mount.

Eventually, to the surprise of everyone, Dom managed to knock the older man from his horse. In the end the Manderly man's greatest weakness had come back to haunt him. Because of his weight the man had been forced to exert himself more then usual, he had been riding for almost the entire day so by the end of it he was one step away from toppling from his horse from sheer exhaustion.

He had to say he thought it was quite ironic the way that Dom had won. It was very Bolton of him. Laying in wait until the enemy was at the weakest, and when they didn't expect it, strike with their full force. The crowd had screamed he's friends name over and over again, very few of them had expected the young man to win, but when he had, the excitement levels of the crowd had grown exponentially. So much so that when Lord Stark had stood up to speak it took a few minutes to calm the crowd.

When the crowd had eventually been settled Lord Stark's voice echoed around the arena "THAT PUTS AN END TO THE JOUSTING COMPETITION AND DAY ONE OF THE TOURNAMENT. CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR CHAMPION DOMERIC BOLTON!"

Again a massive cheer arose from the crowd, applauding the young champion of the joust.

"THERE WILL BE A DAY OF REST TOMORROW WHICH WILL THEN BE FOLLOWED BY THE WOLFSWOOD RACE AND ARCHERY COMPETITIONS. SO PREPARE YOUR HORSES, FLETCH YOUR ARROWS AND STRING YOUR BOWS BECAUSE THE CHAMPIONS WILL BE DECIDED AND REWARDED, PREPARE WELL AND GOOD LUCK TO YOU ALL."

That night the Great Hall was filled to capacity, five hundred men and women's seated at the multiple tables spread throughout the hall. Asher was seated with Jon and the rest of their group, by now all of them except the younger ones like Robb, Cley, Bran and Arya were half drunk already.

SmallJon and Theon were up and about drinking, dancing and singing along to 'Iron Lances'. Half way through the song Theon separated from SmallJon and went over to Robb trying to pull him to his feet and force him to join the three of them. Eventually he gave in and joined his best friend in the dancing and singing. It was good to see the boy loosen up; for the past few moons he had been so tense and worried about the stability of his family. Now that his mother had returned to Winterfell and all of his siblings had been reunited, he could act like a boy he's age and simply enjoy life while he could.

"Robb!" Jon called out loudly. "I've brought you a gift little brother."

Motioning to him to get the sword, Jon made his way over to his brother. The small area around them had calmed down and quietened everyone curious to see what Jon had brought for Robb, even Lord Stark and some of the others at the high table were watching on.

Grabbing the sword wrapped in cloth, Asher made his way over to the two Starks and handed Jon the item.

"On our journeys we came across a few rare items. There were only three of them and Asher and I agreed that there would be no one better to wield this than you." Saying this Jon handed the sword over to Robb.

Even though the bards were still playing their music and the majority of the hall were still shouting and singing, drunk enough to drop at anytime, their small group was silent, watching on as Robb unwrapped the cloth from the sword.

When he had taken the cloth from it, he heard the younger ones gasp in awe at the sword in front of the eyes. Asher had to admit that even he was amazed every time he looked at the sword. Mikken really was a damn good smith, the hilt was a bit similar to Jon's own but the guards weren't as wide and the wolfs head on the pommel was a simple silver with sapphire garnets for eyes.

When he unsheathed the sword, Asher saw his eyes go wide in wonder. Asher knew that non of the others had seen anything like it before. Although it looked similar to Valyrian Steel, it held a smoother finish almost as though it were made from ice itself.

He had often found himself staring at his own sword for short periods of time, completely encapsulated by the beauty of the blade. He and Jon had tested their blades against each other and when the metal met it sang louder than he had ever heard from other swords.

"Jon…this…it's...thank you…" Robb managed to utter out.

Jon simply gave his brother a smile and tussled his hair playfully. "I know that it may be too big for you at the moment, but the more you train with it, the easier it's going to make using it in the next few years. It will become an extension of your arm and then you'll be truly frightening with a blade."

Robb nodded at his brother's advice before he went over to his bench to examine the blade more closely. Theon, Cley, Daryn and Edd were crowding him, each of them trying to get a closer look at the sword.

"Jon!" A small voice called out.

Looking back over to his friend, he saw that Arya and Bran had come over to stand in front of their brother.

"We want swords too!" This time it was Bran that made a demand to Jon.

Letting out a small laugh, patted his siblings on the head. "Maybe when your older. For now you need to get to bed."

The two looked to be about to protest but before they could Lyarra had come up behind them and told them that their mother had ordered for them to get to their room. So Asher watched has she made rounds and grabbed Robb, Sansa, those two, Cley and surprisingly Torrhen and Edd.

The rest of them had laughed when they saw Torrhen trying to reason with his wife, pleading for her to allow him to stay, all the while Edd gave his brother a look of betrayal.

"The man's like a chained dog when it comes to Lya." As Harrion said this the rest of them had burst out in laughter, throwing taunts at the retreating Torrhen, as the man in question gave them jealous glares.

Eventually even Lord Stark and some of the others had left for bed, leaving them to continue their drinking and partying.

The next morning he had woken up to find himself face first in the dirt of the courtyard with many of the others around him. Curiously Dacey wasn't there. He was sure that she had been with them last night. Although at the moment he didn't really trust himself to remember anything that had happened after the hall had started to empty. By the gods, he didn't even remember why they were in the courtyard in the first place.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

 **Robb II**

He couldn't believe Jon had given him that sword. It was beautiful, yet deadly looking. The blade itself reminded him a lot of Ice but the blue veins were a lighter blue, more like Ice than the deep ocean. The hilt looked so much like the one he had seen attached to Jon's own sword, but the pommel was different, more stylised towards him.

He didn't know where they had found such a blade, but he would be eternally grateful to his brother, for his decision to give him such a blade. The only thing left to do was go test it out against the training dummies.

So after washing himself in the tub that the servants had filled for him that morning, he got dressed and made his way down to the training yard. Yesterday truly been a happy day for him, his family was back together and his mother had returned to Winterfell and although his parents were still not back to normal, just having them all together was a good step forward.

Sansa had been over the moon when their mother had come back with Rickon. She was the one who had taken it the hardest, because while Bran and Arya were away at Last Hearth and Bear Island and he was with Jon at Sea Dragon Point, she had grown lonely. When Lya had come back Sansa had grown a bit happier, spending a lot of her time helping their eldest sister run Winterfell and generally look after her self.

But now that mother was back, she at least seemed on track to her normal self. Out of all their siblings Sansa and Jon were the least close. Even though Jon had brought her all sorts of fabrics from Essos and tried to better their relationship, there was still a tension between them.

Arriving in the yard he noticed majority of the group of friends he had made over the past few weeks were laying asleep on the ground in front of the stables. Noticing his brother over to the side, he made his way there and shook him.

"Jon…Jon!...wake up!" He spoke, shaking his brother.

After a few moments of grunts and low mumbles Jon eventually opened his eyes, but immediately shut them when they found the early sun. "Aaarghh, where am I?" He asked softly.

"You're in the training yard, don't know how you got here though?"

"What the hell happened last night?"

"Don't ask me. After I went to bed you guys kept on drinking. We must be out of ale with the amount you guys used up last night."

"Asher!" Jon called out loudly. "You up?"

Robb turned his head towards where he saw Asher lift his head up. "Yep" he heard Asher call back. "You have any idea what happened?"

"No idea." Jon answered as he let his head fall back down against the earth.

"So you idiots are awake I see."

Turning around Robb saw Dacey standing there in light leathers looking down smugly at the others.

"Dacey" Asher called. "What the hell happened last night."

"Well you, Dom and Daryn were going at each other about who would win the race, when SmallJon had the bright idea of racing right them. He convinced you nitwits that you didn't have to wait for tomorrow, that you could do it last night. So you all had the ideas that you would be able to saddle your horses and race. You all knocked yourselves out trying to open the stable doors." As she told them what happened, Robb burst into a fit of laughter at his friends' misfortunes.

Eventually they had managed to wake all of the others up and helped them to the hot springs in the Godswood. Jon had told them that uncle Brandon would always go there after a feast and a lot of drinking.

The rest of the day was spent recuperating from the night before, and yesterday's events. While majority of his friends had spent most of the day in hot spring and preparing there horses, Robb had been running the course, making sure that his horse would be able to make the turns at high speeds, but more importantly that it would be able to last long enough to finish the race.

When he returned to the castle after his practice, he noticed a small host marching from the south towards his home. He couldn't make out the banners from where he stood so he ran to inform his father.

He didn't think that anybody would be stupid enough to march against Winterfell now. Almost all the noble houses of the North were here. To march against that would be suicide, even though it probably wasn't a hostile host he would need to inform his father anyway.

When he had found him, the two of them had left for the walls to see who the banners belonged to. As soon as they arrived at the wall his father's face had broken into a smile; for what reason he had no idea. He could make out the banner now that it was closer and recognised it as belonging to House Reed and some of their other vassals from the Neck.

His father had told him to run and get Jon and then meet to him at the gate. Jon had been sparring with Ser Rodrik when he had found him.

"Jon." He called out as he approached the pair. "Father calls for you to meet him at the Main Gate."

"Alright, just let me put this away." He's brother replied. "Thanks for the spar Ser Rodrik."

Making their way to the gate, he noticed he's father embrace the man that stood at the front of the group. He guessed that it must have been Lord Reed but he had no idea that he and his father were so close. Standing next to the man were two children, a girl and boy. They looked to be close to he and Sansa's age, but that was only a guess.

"Lord Reed!" Jon shouted out. "Good to see you again!"

As he said this he's brother enveloped the small man in a hug. Ok he was officially confused, neither his brother or his father had ever spoken about the Lord of House Reed before.

"Jon, when your father informed me that you were alive I was overcome with joy. To think that small boy from all those years ago would be standing in front of me now." Lord Reed responded softly.

"Robb." He's father said, grabbing him by the shoulders and bringing him in front of him. "This is Lord Howland Reed, ruler of the Neck and a very close friend of mine; and these are his children, Meera and Jojen."

"It's a pleasure to meet you my lords and lady." He said as he bowed he's head. He's father had drilled into his head that even if you were greeting your bannermen, you were to show the proper respect, regardless of whether they were sworn to their house.

"Lord Robb. A pleasure." The small lord responded to him. His children sending small smiles in Robb's direction.

"Ned. I'd like to pay my respects if you don't mind." Lord Reed said to his father.

With a nod, he's father turned to face him. "Robb if you wouldn't mind, please show these men to the spare chambers and introduce Meera and Jojen to the others."

With that he left the gate, the Reed children and their men following him as he led them to the chambers. Majority of the men had been tired from riding all day so they had opted to stay in their chambers. There were only about thirty of them so he told them that if they wanted, he would ask some servants to bring food up to their rooms and run baths for them.

Once that was done, he showed Meera and Jojen to their chambers where they placed their packs before they made their way to the Godswood where the others were. When he had introduced the two to his siblings and friends, they had immediately hit off with Bran. It was sort of weird if he was honest with himself, they just seemed naturally drawn to his younger brother, but he guessed that Bran had that ability with people. He, and Arya as well, didn't care about whether people were low or high born, they could make friends with anyone.

Before he knew it the night and morning had past and he was sitting on his horse, ready to start the race through the Wolfswood. Almost their entire group had enter bar Arya, Bran and the Reeds. He knew this forest like the back of his hand, so he was confident that he could win.

"On my sign you may start…..GO!"

With that he spurred his horse on, ending up in the middle of the forty or so riders that had entered the competition. He was honestly surprised so few had entered; majority of those that were racing were either from the Houses of the Wolfswood or Winterfell, only Daryn, Dom and a few other barrowland riders had entered.

Looking to the front of the group he saw a Robett Glover. The large man was riding a massive war horse that looked like it could knock anything out of the way. It was much larger than his horse, but he was hoping that that would help him in the long run. He knew that the course would be long, so he was hoping that his horse would be able to work through it and find the energy to bring him victory.

As they raced through the woods, he could feel the wind blowing against his face, leaves hitting him in the face as they ran through the trees. This was the North. This was freedom.

Noticing something white in front of him, he looked up and saw Ghost resting on a large rock that created a narrow pass with the trees on the other side. He was watching them curiously as if wondering what they were doing.

Looking at the pass, he saw that it came out straight back onto the path they were supposed to be following. So veering his horse to the side, he slipped through the narrow pass and continued on path that it opened up to.

After a while he could see the course path, and his opposition being led by Robett. Pushing his mount a bit more, he came out from the shortcut he had found and ended up parallel with the Glover man.

They led the group for almost an hour before he could see the ending of the forest. Once they passed that point it would only be the final stretch around the plains that surrounded Wintertown and then into the arena where the end would be.

As they passed the end of the Wolfswood he noticed Robett starting to slow down, his horse had been running for too long and hard. With a smirk to himself he spurred his horse on, urging it to pick up speed; thankfully it did. Now he was the sole leader of the race.

'I'll do it. I'm actually winning!'

He was proud of himself, he had entered this race knowing that he had a chance a winning, but he never thought that it would actually happen. Looking behind him he saw Jon, Asher and Dom neck to neck, each trying to get in front of each other and him.

As the gates to the arena grew closer he grew in confidence, he would actually win, so he spurred his forward again urging it to pick up even more speed. But that was his mistake. He had pushed his horse too hard and it just didn't have any energy left. He could feel it slowing down.

'C'mon! Only s few more feet. We can do it. C'mon!'

Just as he thought he was about to win, he heard the heavy tremors of a horse charging past him, and saw Dom's black beast of a horse pass the finish line just before he crossed it.

'Dammit! I was so close. If I hadn't pushed him so hard I could've won!' He thought to himself as he dismounted his horse in front of his parents' stand.

"ITS SEEMS THE UNDERDOG HAS WON AGAIN! GOOD RIDING DOMERIC BOLTON!" He's father's voice thundered around the arena, as it erupted in applause for the Dom just as they had when he won the joust.

Looking up to the stands, he saw Roose Bolton watching on, a rare expression of pride plastered on his face. Turning to his own father he saw both him and his mother give him a smile of pride.

They had a small rest before the Archery competition started. He wasn't that good at the long range combat so he had opted to stay out of that competition. But Theon and Asher had entered, and he couldn't wait to see who was the superior archer. He knew that out of the two, whoever got the furthest wouldn't let the other live it down.

The archery was a lot quicker than the previous events. After fifty paces, all except Asher, Theon and a few crannogmen had been eliminated. Eventually Asher had lost to Theon at sixty five paces and Theon had lost to one of the crannogmen from House Fenn. He's friend had been disappointed at the loss but he had congratulated his opponent and then came over to their group, boasting to Asher that although he hadn't won the competition, he still beat him.

Cley, Bran and Arya had gone up to Theon and Asher and thanked them for losing, because they had made plenty of coin from their betting station they had set up. No one had expected the Fenn man to win, which in his opinion wasn't very smart of them because the crannogmen were amongst the best hunters the North had to offer.

That night they held another feast, not as large as the first one but still loud and exciting. SmallJon had lifted Bran and Arya onto his shoulders as he, his father and those from Bear Island drunkenly led the hall in singing 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair'.

He had laughed so hard that night, he had almost thrown up. This tourney was turning to be one of the best experiences so far into his short life. He had grown a lot closer with his brother and had bet and befriend a lot of the heirs to his father's bannermen.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

 **Bran I**

He sat there watching as his brother dodged and hacked at his opponent. He had seen plenty of the men in Winterfell fight before, but none of them held anything to what he was seeing.

By far the melee was the most popular event so far. Almost all the Houses had either lords or household members fighting in it. Some were on horses while others braved it on foot. But he had never seen so many people fight at once.

Turning to his new friend he spoke. "Jojen, have you ever seen something like this before?"

"No. This is the first time we've come to a tournament. Father doesn't like to leave Greywater Watch very often, and when he does it's only to Moat Cailin. The closest thing I've seen to this is the war games there." Jojen replied softly.

"War games?"

Jojen nodded his head. "Lord Stark asked father to train the men at Moat Cailin in guerrilla warfare and siege tactics. So father splits them into two armies and has them try and take the Moat from both the north and south sides."

Bran was in awe. He didn't know that soldiers at the Moat had done that. He had always wanted to see the North's best stronghold but his mother and father had always told him that he would see it when he was older.

Apparently the Moat used to sit in ruins for generations but his grandfather had repaired in hopes of having his father hold it. Jon had told him that. Had said that in his opinion the Moat was even more fearsome than Harrenhal, and that was the largest castle in Westeros.

Jon had said that the Moat had been completely repaired, all twenty towers rebuilt, the keep resurrected and built from stone, and the walls were once again stood strong. He could only imagine what it looked like.

"Bets! Place your bets here!" Cley's voice pulled him from his thoughts on the Moat and reminded him he had a job to do.

Ever since the first event they had been taking bets and making more money than they would have ever thought. At first it had been a joke that Cley had made, and he and Arya had wanted to see how much money they could make. So they had started their work, and now they were making quite a bit of coin.

Now that Jojen and Meera were here, they had five people to run it. Cley and Arya would take the bets, he would write the amounts and the name of the people betting, and Meera and Jojen would collect the money and take it to where Ghost would guard it.

Even now it amazed him that his brother had a direwolf. Even though they hadn't spent that much time together, he loved his older brother. He and Robb were the best brothers he could ask for, and hopefully Rickon would think the same for him.

Looking down at the arena, he saw Jon and Asher back to back surrounded by a number of other men, they would take turns lunging and drawing men towards them, taking on three or four men at a time. He had no idea his brother was that good that he could take on multiple opponents at once.

He was near his father when he heard Lord Reed speak softly, obviously only intending for his father to hear. But Bran had good ears, he had often heard things he wasn't meant to.

"He reminds me of Authur. The way he fights, his ability to hold off an opponent and even his attitude in battle. It's all Arthur."

He heard his father give a small, quiet laugh. "He is half Dayne after all. That family has produced some of the best swordsmen the Seven Kingdoms have ever seen."

He had never thought about it before but Lya and Jon's mother was Ashara Dayne, and according to one of the books maester Luwin had made him read Ashara Dayne was the sister of Arthur Dayne.

That meant that his half siblings' uncle was Ser Arthur Dayne. That was so cool! He would have to get Jon to tell him stories about his uncle before he went back to Last Hearth. Bran dreamed of becoming a knight. He wanted to become the best that the Seven Kingdoms had ever seen. Better than Ser Barristan the Bold, better than The Sword of the Morning, and better than Ser Aemon Targaryen, the Dragonknight.

Before the melee had began Robb had said that the group would be trying to stay in it until there were fewer competitors so that they could fight it out. Though Dom, Robb, Theon and Cley had decided to sit this one out.

It was only after two hours that the number of fighters still in the arena had gotten small enough that only a few small battles were taking place. The GreatJon and his son were knocking men out left right and centre. Any that chose to challenge them ended up face first in the dirt, and dragged off of the field.

They had even managed to beat Daryn and the Mormont ladies who had all teamed up to try and take out the Umbers.

Eventually there were only three groups left in the arena; The Umbers, The Karstarks and Jon and Asher. Currently Jon and Asher were once again surrounded, but this time against much more dangerous opponents.

What happened next would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life. He swore the entire crowd had gone silent, holding their breathe, waiting to see the outcome of the battle happening in front of their eyes.

Jon drew the three Karstark sons and SmallJon while Asher took GreatJon and Lord Rickard. Asher had used a hit and run tactic, using his superior speed to get behind his opponents and aggravate them into making mistake.

But Jon… his brother was a sight to see. He held off all four of their friends at once, using his sword to redirect their stabs and slashes to work against them. As the battle went on it was as though Jon grew stronger and faster. He became more ferocious in his attacking, hitting his opponents with a strength that nobody had expected someone of his build to have.

It was as though Jon was dancing. The way he was flowing, the sword moving with his body as though it were part of his own body. Bran had never seen anything like it before. Although he was still very young, he had seen quite a few of the visiting lords fighting in the training yard. But this was something completely different.

Before any of the guys knew it Jon had managed to get behind them and smash the pommel of his tourney sword into the back of their heads, knocking each of them out one after another.

Asher hadn't done to badly either, he had beaten by the Umber lord but he managed to anger GreatJon so much that he had accidentally knocked Lord Karstark out with one blow. The man that was teaching him to fight truly was frightening when he was angry, he had knocked Asher out with a backhand to the face, and even Bran himself had flinched when it happened. The knock was quick and powerful and Asher had been knocked off his feet and hadn't gotten back up.

Now it was only his brother and his mentor in the quiet arena, circling one another like two animals waiting to pounce. Looking at what happened to Asher, Bran knew that GreatJon would only need one clean hit to take his brother out.

At once they both rushed towards each other, swords high ready to come down in powerful slashes. At the moment before the swords were about to meet, Jon suddenly dived to a roll underneath the swipe of his opponents and come up behind him. The GreatJon had put so much force into his slash that his momentum had carried him forward and caused him to stumble.

Jon capitalised on the opportunity and got behind his opponent and placed his blade to the Umber's throat, calling for him to yield.

The moment that GreatJon yielded, the entire arena burst into applause and cheer for his brother. The Stark heir had proven his worth in the most northern way possible, beat one of the greatest warriors the North had to offer in close combat.

Watching that fight had only served to strengthen Bran's resolve to become the best. To do that though, he would have to become better than his brother and looking at the fight that had just happened, he still had a long way before he could say he was the best.

Once he got back to Last Hearth, he would push for SmallJon and his father to train him much harder than they had. He would give his everything and learn as much as possible in order to make his family proud.

"Bran!" Arya shouted at him. "C'mon, Cley said we have to take the people their coin that they won. Knowing that some people might try to take their money back regardless of whether they had lost, so they had decided that they would take the winnings to the people together, and just for extra protection their trusty direwolf friend would escort them.

"Ghost! C'mon boy, we're going."

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

 **Eddard III**

Ned never liked tourneys. After Harrenhal, he tended to stick away from them. He had gone to a few over the years since the rebellion but that had been to appease his bannermen.

But this was one of the first that he had truly enjoyed. His entire family was back together, his eldest sons had both competed in events, Robb had come so close to winning and Jon had been crowned champion of the melee, taking everyone by surprise at his swordsmanship.

He had laughed when he saw Bran and Arya taking people's bets with Cley. Even though they were too young to compete, they still found a way to get involved in the tournament. The town had also been benefiting from it as well seeing as though so many people had travelled to Winterfell for the tourney. That meant that the taverns and inns were getting at least five times more coin than they usually would. Add to the fact that he had set the prize money relatively low compared to the southern tournaments, he would only end up using about one thousand gold dragons for all the events. The real expense had been building the arena.

Instead of erecting a temporary structure, he had ordered for a permanent arena to be built. With the increase of people coming in to the north both from Essos, mostly Braavos, and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms the army was growing larger and the Winterfell courtyard was too small to train all those recruits in, so Rodrik would use the arena to train them when it wasn't being used for the tourney.

Another thing that had surprised him was Howland arriving. His friend hadn't left the Neck, except to Moat Cailin, since the rebellion. So it was good to see him come North to Winterfell for once.

They had talked a lot about what was happening at the Moat, and he was glad to here that his friend had been teaching the soldiers posted their how to lay siege against a castle and how to combat against it.

He was still uncertain about who would rule the Moat. He was once supposed to hold it in his father's name, but after the rebellion that plan had fallen through and he was forced to take up lordship of Winterfell. He had offered it to Benjen, but his brother had refused and told him he was joining the Night's Watch. He had tried to stop him, but Benjen had been adamant about it, telling him that it was the only way to atone for his sins.

So he had let his brother go. However hard it was for him, he knew that he needed to let Benjen make his own decisions. Now he was contemplating whether to give it to Robb or Bran. The only thing was that he knew holding that Keep would be hard on a person; not everyone was built to live in the land and climate that surrounded that place. That was why if his sons didn't want the Keep he would give it to Howland and his house.

If he was being honest, there were only a few people in this world he trusted completely, and after everything they had gone through, Howland topped that list.

Currently he was sitting in his solar writing out orders for the men finishing the work on the new Keep he had built for Lyarra and Torrhen. The main builder had written to him and told him that they would probably be finished by the next moon, so he was writing out the paperwork for the withdrawal of coin from the vault needed to pay the workers. Fortunately the Keep wasn't extremely large and the dowry paid for Lya's wedding would help cover the majority of the costs.

Currently Winterfell had quite a lot of coin in the vaults. He's house hadn't really spent anything big over the generations until his father started rebuilding Moat Cailin, which had taken almost thirty years to complete and hundreds of thousands of golden dragons. Apart from that, the vault had really only been added.

That was until now. With the number of workers building the new castle and city at Sea Dragon Point, the cost would be quite big. Usually they wouldn't take on so many people, but Jon had been pushing for them to try and finish before winter came, and judging by how long this summer had been, could happen at any time.

That was another thing that he needed to sort out. He would need to send out orders for the houses to start storing foods for the winter. He knew it wasn't autumn yet and the harvest festival hadn't happened, but he had a feeling that this winter would be long.

Finishing signing the papers for the payment of the workers in the New Gift, he moved onto the next piece of work. After the tourney ended he would be sailing to Braavos to apply for a loan from the Iron Bank, in order to help pay for the construction at the point. Technically they didn't need a loan, but after the payment went out for the Moat, he didn't want to put such a large dent in their accounts.

The North and Braavos had good relations and the North had taken loans from the Iron Bank before and repaid them in time, so he knew that he was likely to get the loan. If his calculations were correct and the new port city increased the North's income by at least ten percent then they would easily be able to pay the loan of in five years without actually decreasing their own funds.

The final piece of business he wanted to finish today was dealing with the raiders on their west coast that Jon had informed him about. He had spoken to Wyman earlier that day about sending a few ships around to the west to patrol the coast, and he said that all he needed was the orders and he would have a rider leave for White Harbour and start preparing the ships to sail.

Thinking about the White Harbour actually got him pondering about their two families. The Manderlys were one of their most prominent, powerful and loyal vassals and yet their family hadn't been joined since before his great great grandfather's time. He was thinking of approaching Wyman and Wylis and proposing that they join their houses through Jon and Wynafryd. He of course would talk to Jon first, but he needed his eldest son to wed, and the bride needed to be from the North. He had married to southerns and he didn't want to upset his bannermen by doing the same to his son.

Speaking of southern wives, he's own was back in Winterfell again after spending a few moons in Riverrun. He wasn't angry at her anymore and she wasn't with him, but it wasn't the same anymore. There was always a tension between them now, and they had taken to sleep in separate chambers.

She had told him that when she had arrived at Riverrun, her father had been furious about what had happened and that he had threatened to come to Winterfell and try force him to uphold and deal that his father had made between her and Brandon. But the longer she was away, the more she realised that she hadn't even bothered to ask what Robb wanted and sh honestly just wanted to be with her children.

She admitted that she probably wouldn't ever get along with Jon, but she wouldn't blatantly show distaste for him either. Although that didn't exactly make him happy, he did understand that she was trying her best, so he accepted it and they tried to move on.

Ned was really starting to get worried about the Wall lately. Benjen and Jeor had been sending him ravens updating him on their situation, and it wasn't good. The wildlings were getting bolder and were managing to get across the Wall more often than not.

The mountain clans had been reporting that more raids were happening in their lands than ever before. Their weapon caches were being raided and their livestock killed. The Night's Watch was deteriorating and only the North seemed to care. Even then, they could only offer so much support.

Once this tourney finished he would have a lot of work that needed to be done. But for now he would enjoy what was happening.

The next day, he found himself once again sitting next to Howland and Cat as they watched the final event, the wrestling. Although it wasn't very popular in the South, Northerns relished to participate in it; men wanted to prove their strength and power, and what better way than a show of pure body strength.

A lot of the mountain clans had signed up for the event, even lord Wull in his older years was fighting. They had decided to have elimination rounds instead of a large all in battle. That way they could see one on one, and whoever fought their way through and won would be crowned champion.

Jon had decided to enter this as well, which he didn't really think was a good idea. Because although the Starks were fairly large people, Jon build leaned more towards his Dayne side. He was by no means slim, but he wasn't as large as Brandon, or his father were.

When his son had won the melee two days ago, the GreatJon had laughed heartedly and declared that his son would be a good lord and a better warrior. He had laughed his defeat off, but Ned knew the man, he would want to get revenge, and Jon wouldn't stand a chance against the much larger man.

Standing up and projecting his voice, he started the final event of their tourney. "BEGIN!" They sat there for hours watching as men were pitted up against each other, a lot of his bannermens' sons had entered the competition and some had been forced to face each other in the early rounds. While Jon had entered, Asher had not. The backhand that GreatJon had given him in the melee had been so brutal even he had wince when he saw the boy get hit. His son's friend had broken his nose and had been forced to pull out of this competition. Maester Luwin had told the boy he would only do more damage to himself if he tried to fight in the condition he was in.

The gods seemed to be favouring the lord of Last Hearth, because it had just been announced that the next fight would be him against Jon. It seemed his son would be getting some of that arrogance knocked out of him, and he couldn't wait to see it happen.

When the two got on to the field, they started to circle each other just as they did in the melee, but this time when Jon rushed forward the Umber man stayed in his position. Throwing a punch at his opponent, Ned could see the surprise that arose on his son's face when, instead of the punch landing a hit, it soared straight past his opponents head.

GreatJon had tilted his head to the side at the last moment with a speed that nobody would have guessed the man had. He used the same tactic that Jon had used in the previous match between the two of them, and capitalised on Jon's surprise stagger, driving his fist into Jon's gut, bending him over in pain. Before they knew it GreatJon had his hands on Jon's shoulders and brought his head down, cracking their heads together like thunder. Jon didn't have anytime to register what had happened before he fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

He had to admit that he let out a laugh when he saw his son lose so easily, that would remind him that even if they were old, he and his old friends could still knock the shit out of their sons. It would humble them for the foreseeable future.

Looking to the group that the young ones had formed, he saw them all looking on as their friend had lost embarrassingly quickly. Jon hadn't even managed to lay on hit on his opponent. The fact was that he had lost that battle as soon as his opponent had been announced.

The rest of the competition went as expected, GreatJon knocked out any that came against him fairly easily. The final bout was between him and Robett Glover. They were both very large men and fierce fighters, which was why the fight had been so entertaining to watch.

The two had grappled and thrown punches that would have knocked other men out the moment it made contact. The fight had lasted for almost twenty minutes, of the two training blow for blow. Eventually though after a particularly long grapple and show of strength between the two, GreatJon managed to overpower the Glover man and got behind him, placing him in a choke hold until he passed out.

That night the feast was larger than even that of the first day. The hall was filled to capacity and the people of Wintertown celebrated throughout the night and early mornings.

At the beginning of the feast, Ned had brought all the champions up to the high table and had them cheered on by the rest of the lords and ladies.

"As promised. The House who held the most champions would be given the opportunity to ask one thing of House Stark, if it is in my power, I shall grant you what you ask." He's voice rang across the Great Hall. "So approach, Domeric Bolton and ask of me what you will."

The young man turned towards him and knelt before the high table. Speaking softly, he said. "My lord, you honour me. As we all know House Stark and House Bolton have been fierce rivals since and Age of Heroes and unfortunately in the past we rose up against the your house. But I would see that it never happens again. Never before have Stark and Bolton joined families. So I ask of you Lord Stark to help me usher in a new era for both of our houses by joining our houses together."

To say he and the rest of the hall were shocked would be an understatement. There was complete silence, nobody dared to speak after what they had heard.

The Bolton heir was right though, the boltons had been one of the only houses in the north that had not been married into the Stark family. They had been fiercest rivals and the two most powerful houses in the north long before the North had even formed.

To be honest he had never thought of actually joining their houses. But what the boy said was true, if the houses were joined by blood, there would be less of a chance of another rebellion. So before giving his answer he looked to Roose to see if he agreed with his son. When the man gave a nod in agreement, he looked to Cat who looked a bit worried but also gave him a nod.

"You speak the truth Lord Domeric, our houses have never joined through marriage, and I would see that changed. So I shall agree to what you ask. House Stark and House Bolton will join, and usher in a new era for both of our houses!"

The hall erupted in cheer for the news, the two most powerful houses would be joining. Ned was happy with his decision to accept Dom's request, and judging by the look Sansa was giving Dom, so was she.

The feast had gone well that night. Most of his bannermen had drank themselves into comatose, but he knew they would be perfectly fine by the next morning. Northerns were built from strong stuff, ale and wine made them stronger, not weaker.

He had left early to put his younger children to bed, although Sansa had gone with her mother and Lyarra to see to Rickon. When he had taken them, Bran and Arya had complained that it was unfair that Robb got to stay Jon while they had to leave. He had given them a stern look and told them that Robb was older than them, and this was technically still a celebration for his nameday so he would allow his son the benefit only for tonight.

The next morning he once again found himself sitting in his solar seeing to the various piles of paperwork he had waiting for him. He had sent Alyn to find Wyman, Wylis and Jon in order for them to talk about a potential betrothal. He would also be talking to Roose about the specifics of the betrothal between their families, he was sure that Sansa wouldn't mind marrying the Bolton heir, from what he saw during the tourney, the two of them were getting quite close.

When they arrived, Jon didn't look to be in the best shape. His head was bandaged from the knock that GreatJon had given him and his eyes were drooping from the lack of sleep he must have gotten. After the first day of the tourney, when he saw them asleep in the courtyard, he wouldn't have been surprised if him and his friends had tried some other idiotic ideas of theirs.

"My Lords, Jon. Please have a seat." Once they were seated he continued. "Jon, you're my eldest son, and heir. I believe it's past the time where you are wed."

He's son simply gave a tired, resigned nod.

Turning to the Manderlys he spoke. "Which is why I've asked for you to be her my lords. House Manderly is one of House Stark's most loyal houses. You have held White Harbour for thousands of years, and have brought business and prosperity to the North ever since. Which is why, if you agree, I would see our houses join through a marriage between Jon and Wynafryd."

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 **Well, that's that. Super long chapter today. Hope you liked the Tournament at Winterfell, I know that there probably aren't any wrestling/fist fight competitions or even horse racing, but I just thought I would add some events I thought the northerners might like.**

 **I know that the Sansa/Domeric pairing is used quite often, but I've read Our Blades Are Sharp by Spectre4hire and I really like how his done it. I also wanted to change the whole idea that Sansa gets taken hostage by the crown, and try something new.**

 **Anyway we'll be skipping to the start of canon next chapter, but it will be a bit different.**

 **So until next time. Thanks for the support guys.**


	7. Jon III

**Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire or any related works.**

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 **Jon III**

 **298 AC**

It had been almost two years since the tournament and he was living a good life. He and Wynafryd had been wed about a year ago and their first child would be entering into the world soon.

The construction at Sea Dragon Point had been going really well. They had completed the Keep and castle buildings as well as the inner wall that surrounded it. But it would take a few more years to finish the city walls and the city itself. The keep itself was beautiful, built from the dark basalt stone. It wasn't anywhere near as big as Winterfell, but it was still large. Main gate opened into a circular courtyard that held a small garden with a central statue of wolves laying on a rock while their alpha howled to the moon. He had gotten workers from Braavos to sculpt it.

Branching off to left were the servants quarters and the kitchens, while the stables, armoury, smith, trainingyard and guards housing all laid to the left of the courtyard. Walking straight through the courtyard led to the hall which was a large circular structure that had four towers connected that held the Maester's turret and rookery, the lord's solar and library, the household chambers and the guest house.

The only reason that they had managed to complete all of that so quickly was because there were close to five thousand workers helping. They had taken a loan from the Iron Bank to pay for the workers labor. All of this was done because he had wanted to try and complete the construction before winter arrived.

Fortunately summer seemed to last for longer than any of them had expected, but he had a feeling that when winter did eventually come, it would be harsh and long. From what he remembered of when he was younger, the winters he had lived through were harsh but quick, Wintertown had been more populated than he had ever seen as people rushed in to seek the refuge of Winterfell.

Currently he was travelling to Castle Black to speak to Lord Commander Mormont about the problem with the wildlings. Reports had been coming in that more and more villages and lands were being raided. Father had posted more guards at Greenhill Keep with Torrhen and Lya. The raids had been really frequent in the New Gift, as well as the west coast. Bear Island were being hit harder than ever, and they had even tried to get Sea Dragon Point, but they had killed the wildlings before they even got close to the keep.

So they had agreed that if the wildlings wanted a fight, they would get one. Jon would be taking a proposal to the Night's Watch, to launch a joint strike against a few of the clans that were raiding the most. They had chosen to travel to the frozen shore and demand that that the clans who resided there stop their raiding or they would attack with their full force.

He had only travelled to Castle Black a few times over the last two years. The first to reunite with his uncle. Now that had been emotional, they and aunt Lya had been so close when they were younger, and Jon knew that his disappearance had hit his uncle hard. Benjen could barely believe that he was alive, he had been so sure that Jon was dead that there were tears in his eyes as he embraced his nephew.

Jon had also met Maester Aemon, and boy did he like the old man. He may have been a Targaryen, but the man was good and honest. He had helped Jon find old tomes on skinchangers; even though he was blind the old man knew almost every book in Castle Black's library. The books that they had found were history books that talked of a man that the Starks had defeated called Gaven Greywolf.

During the War of the Wolves, and House Stark's quest to conquer the North. Thee Starks had fought a savage war with a legendary skinchangers called Gaven Greywolf. It was said that he had the ability to take on the form of an entire pack of wolves, and set them loose on any enemy standing in his way.

Other than that they hadn't found much else, so Maester Aemon told him to go to the Nightfort and search there. When the castle had been abandoned the library had been left untouched. So he had gone there and found ancient tomes that spoke of stories and histories he had never before heard of. The knowledge that was in those books were priceless, so he had offered the Lord Commander twenty five hundred golden dragons for all of the books there. He had been hard pressed to accept, but Jon had told him all of them would be placed at Winterfell in the First Keep, and any time he had need of them, he just needed to send a raven, and someone would take the required tomes to him.

There was a lot more information found from the books he had found in the Nightfort. They spoke of skinchanging as an ability that the Children had, that in battle they would call upon animals to help them strike down their foes. One book spoke about being able to project your mind into that of an animals, that by forcing your will upon them they could be controlled.

In the two years that had past, he had tried to do what the books spoke of, but for almost an entire year, he made no progress. It was one day when he was resting in the Godswood that he had cleared his mind, simply meditating, when he found himself able to see his own form sitting on the rock. Only after he had 'woken up' did he realise that Ghost had been laying down staring at him.

All those times he had been trying to force his will into Ghost, but he realised then that it didn't work like that. He needed to clear his mind allow his consciousness to flow into Ghost's body. The more he tried to force it, the more Ghost resisted it, or so he assumed.

He had been practising ever since then, and he could enter Ghost's body fairly easily when he was relaxed and calm. But when he tried to take control of any other animal he got no response. So he had stopped trying, and only focused on strengthening his bond with his direwolf.

Once he arrived at Castle Black he was brought before their small council who had all come to listen to what was being proposed. Their were obviously Lord Commander Mormont, Maester Aemon, Uncle Benjen as First Ranger, First Builder Othell Yarwyck, Lord Steward Bowen Marsh and the Master-at-arms Ser Allister Thorne. They were all seated on a raised platform while he stood below that.

"Lord Jon, your father sent a raven saying that he was sending you with a proposal for the Night's Watch. Let us hear what you have to say." Spoke the Old Bear.

"As you well know, the wildling raids have become more frequent, especially on the west coast. Bear Island and Sea Dragon Point have been hit too many times now. The clans of the Frozen Shore are growing bolder, believing that they can raid our shores and live with no consequences." He said, informing them of the situation on the west coast. "Lord Stark has had enough. He has ordered for us to take terms to the clans, either they stop the raiding or we put them to sword. He has proposed that the North and the Watch start a joint campaign against the raiding parties. If we are provided with a few rangers to help us travers the frozen shore, we will taken two hundred men and do what needs to be done."

The advisors discussed it between themselves before presenting them thoughts to the Lord Commander.

"Lord Commander, give me leave and I will accompany my nephew with a score of rangers to hit the Frozen Shores. I've ranged there dozens of times before, I know the land better than any of the other rangers." He's uncle spoke. "This will also give us an opportunity to send out a team to search for Waymar, Gared and Will. While we hit the frozen shore, a few groups can search the haunted forest for any raiding parties making camp there."

"I agree. Lord Commander, we need to present the wildlings with a show of strength." Ser Allister spoke with his gruff voice.

After a few more inputs from the others, Jeor turned to him. "Very well Jon Stark, tell your father we agree to the proposal. Benjen and a team of rangers will accompany you. Send our thanks to Lord Stark for his support."

With that Jon left the buildings, they would leave at sunrise the next morning, and ride straight for Winterfell.

It had taken them a few days to reach his home, but when they got there he noticed that servants were bustling around the keep. Even Wintertown had been in the process of being cleaned. Soldier were sweeping the streets and inns were being cleaned. His uncle had sent him a question look as if to ask what was happening, but he had no idea, so he gave a shrug.

Walking into the Great Hall, he was greeted with the sight of Bran and Arya arguing about who the better swordsman was while Sansa sat with Wynafryd and played with Rickon and Robb sat and listened as Theon told him about his latest visit to the Wintertown brothel. Luckily they were sat far away from his younger siblings so they couldn't hear anything the Greyjoy was saying.

As soon as his young siblings saw them they jumped up and ran straight past him towards uncle Benjen. He had been gone for almost two weeks and they didn't even find the need to greet him. While he sulked, Robb and Theon sat laughing at him. Giving them a glare as he walked past, he made beeline for his father.

"Father." He said as he bowed. "Lord Commander Mormont has agreed to the proposal and has order uncle Benjen and a few other rangers to guide us. While we strike the Frozen Shore, they will scour the Haunted Forest for raiding parties."

"Thank you for taking the message Jon." His father said in gratitude. "But unfortunately I won't be able to join you this time. We've received a raven from Kings Landing. Jon Arryn is dead, and the King leaves the capital in a moon to make his way to Winterfell. I have to be here to receive him. So you will have the command, I've ordered GreatJon and Rickard to accompany you, so they'll act as your second in command."

He was sad to hear that the man he was named after was dead. He like the old man the few times he had encountered him as a child. But he wouldn't allow that to stop him from completing the mission his father was tasking him with.

"I won't fail you father. We'll ride out at dawn."

With a nod, he moved over to sit with Robb and Theon.

"So. Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" He asked them, receiving a smirk in reply.

"C'mon I want to show you something." Robb said as he and Theon got up and made their way out of the room. As he followed, he heard his father tell Benjen of a deserter that he had just executed.

The path they were taking led straight to the kennels, where surprisingly he saw Ghost sleeping. The direwolf had gone with him to Castle Black, but when they returned to Winterfell had silently slinked off without him noticing. Usually when Ghost wasn't with him, he would be in the Godswood. The guards knew that when the direwolf waited at the gate that he wanted them to open it for him to enter.

"On our way back from an execution, we happened upon a dead stag. So we followed the tracks and blood trail and happened upon something impossible." Theon was saying.

Robb took over from there. "Let's just say that you aren't the only one who has a…"

"Direwolf." He finished in shock as he looked down at the sleeping pups held in the pen Ghost had been laying in front.

To anybody else they may have looked no different to any other wolf, but Jon had been around Ghost for more than two years now. He knew the difference between a normal wolf and a direwolf.

"How did one get south of the Wall on its on!?"

"The mother was dead when we found the pups. The stag had killed her." Robb stated.

"There was only one? You're sure?" He asked the two, and when they nodded in reply he continued. "That shouldn't be possible! For a direwolf to get past the Wall, and for it to be alone… direwolves like other wolves are pack animals, there's no way a pregnant female would have been left alone!"

"I don't know how it happened but there were six pups, one for each Stark child. I'm just happy we get direwolves as well to be honest." Robb said with a smile as he opened the gate and picked up a grey one.

There were four grey and two black pups. And at the moment they had all decided to snuggle up to Ghost. Looking down at his companion, he let a smirk surface.

"Look at that Ghost, you're their mother now." He teased his direwolf.

In reply, his very large companion snapped at his ankles.

The next morning, after saying goodbye to his wife and family, Jon, Ghost and the black brothers rode for Sea Dragon Point, where they would meet the rest of the forces and ships. On the way there they met up with Asher and their two friends they had met after the tourney, Brandon Norrey and Benfred Tallhart. They would all be leaving with Jon to the Frozen Shore.

It took them a few days to reach the point, but when they had all the soldiers had been briefed on what their jobs was by GreatJon. It took them a few days of sailing before they reached the Frozen Shores, and as they had landed and departed the ships, he had everyone gathered and together ready to lay down some ground rules.

As he paced in front of them flanked by Ghost, Rickard and GreatJon, he projected his voice. "You all already have your orders so I won't go over them again, but as you know we'll be splitting into four groups, twenty of you will stay behind to guard the ships, while sixty riders will go with each of the commanders, that being me, Lord Umber and Lord Karstark. You _will_ offer negotiation first, if they refuse you have your orders. Any that surrender are to taken prisoner. But! No women or children are to be hurt, if I find that anyone here disobeyed my orders and think they can rape a women and I won't find out are sorely mistaken. If I find out that anybody disobeyed me, I'll personally execute you. Get ready to ride out."

According to uncle Benjen, there were two clans that lived on the Frozen Shore, those who wore antlers on their head gear and those who used the bones of walruses. Apparently the leader of the walruses was a wildlings by the name of Great Walrus.

If they could get him then that could help avoid bloodshed, that's why he asked his uncle to lead his host towards their village. GreatJon and Rickard would be lead to some of the other villages to try and negotiate, and if that fell through, attack. SmallJon and Harrion would be travelling with their father's, while Asher, Brandon and Benfred would be be coming with him.

His uncle had informed them that very few wildlings had horses, so they had brought mounted men with them to try overwhelm the wildlings much more easily. He had the option of riding Ghost seeing as the direwolf was essentially fully grown. But he didn't want to hinder his companion if he had to suddenly defend from a surprise attack. Every time he looked at Ghost he got a fright, the direwolf had grown to a size that surprised even him. He was almost as large as a horse. He could easily rip anything he wanted apart an there would be nothing anybody could do to stop it.

It took his host them three days of riding before they spotted the first village. He had ordered them to set up camp a few leagues away to stay concealed from the wildlings. The tents were made from white cloth so as to camouflage them, but he knew that if the wildlings really owned this land they would have seen them coming days ago.

Before they left for the village, he wanted to scout the area first but he didn't want to risk sending any men out there in the middle of enemy territory so he had told Asher to stand guard outside his tent and not let anyone in for a few hours. He would try to warg into Ghost before anything else, and if that worked, he would use the direwolf to scout, after all he was white and would blend in perfectly with his environment.

So sitting down, he calmed his mind, breathing in and out. Feeling his consciousness slipping from his body, he closed he's eyes and allowed his mind to do the rest.

When he opened his eyes he was outside in the snow. He could feel that it had worked, he could feel Ghosts body as though it were his own, and in the recesses of his mind he could feel Ghost's consciousness.

Lifting himself from the ground, he started making his way out of the camp, watching as soldiers gave him a wide berth. Slowly he padded through the snows, lifted his snout as he followed the various scents that invaded his nose.

This was his domain, the snow capped lands of the North, where wolves reigned supreme, where the wild grew without disruption. After slowly following the scents to where they all converged, he happened upon a small hill.

Crouching lowly, he started the quiet crawl towards the vantage point. Arriving there he could see a village, a small one, but he could smell other scents there as well, not only the two legged ones, but what smelt like others of his kind, but they didn't have the scent of the pups, no they smelt more like the caged ones at the stone dens.

One of them was getting closer, he could smell it's scent almost as though it were right…

Jon suddenly was back in his body. He was struggling to breathe, nothing had ever happened like that before, it was as though he had thought that he himself was a wolf, and then at the end… Ghost had forcibly kicked him out. He could feel it, Ghost's presence had overpowered him and regained control. He had to make sure his partner was ok.

Grabbing his sword and cloak, he stormed out of his tent. On his way out he called for Asher to follow him. Together the two of them trudged through the path, trying to follow the path, from his memory, that he had taken while in Ghosts body. After walking for almost half and hour, he came upon a bloody sight.

There were the bodies of three large dogs and one wildling, their throats ripped out. Feasting on the bodies were a direwolf and two smaller wolves. As soon as they approached, the two smaller wolves looked up from their kills and started growling and snarling at them but one snarl from his direwolf stopped them in their tracks.

"Ghost." He called out. "What happened? Come over here."

When he's direwolf made his way over, Jon could see the moon light shining on his wolf's fur. There were two sets of claw marks etched into the wolf's side and a stab wound, and they were bleeding quite badly. Jon would need to stop the bleeding or else Ghost…

He didn't even want to think about what would happen. There was a healer back at the camp, he would probably have a salve that stopped bleeding. So quickly ordering Asher to run back to camp and bring the healing equipment.

So while Asher rushed back to camp he waited with Ghost, using his cloak to apply pressure to the wound. They laid there for what seemed like a few hours before Asher had returned with his uncle and the healer.

By the time they had arrived, Ghost had been so weak he could barely lift his head. Luckily the healer had a salve that he created from a few plants and herbs. He said that it was intended for humans, but he believed that it would work well enough to stop the bleeding on his direwolf.

The more he sat there with Ghost the more he realised that it was his fault his partner was in this mess. He had been cocky to believe that he was ready to try and take control of the direwolf in a situation that had many dangers. He should have never sent the wolf scouting in the first place.

Luckily Asher had brought a sled, so they, with much difficulty, placed Ghost on the sleigh and pulled him all the way back to camp. After that, he wanted to get back to Winterfell as soon as possible, so the next day he and his host rode out to the village.

Arriving there he noticed more of the dogs that Ghost had killed the night before, and even more reindeer grazing on the frosted grass behind the village.

There to meet them were a group of maybe twenty wildlings, while he could see children and elderly people moving into their ice huts. The man at the front of group was a large man that wore walrus bones all around his body. He was maybe of similar age to Jon's own father, but he couldn't really tell with the man's cloak hiding his body. He wielded a large stone battle axe with a hilt almost as tall as Jon.

"What are you fuckers doing here?" The man at the front asked.

"You Great Walrus?" Jon asked ignoring the man's question.

"Aye. Again what you doing here?" He repeated his first question.

"You've been raiding on our shores. Did you really think we would let you get away with that…"

"We're free folk. We don't follow your laws, we take what we want, when we want it."

"Feel free to do that in your lands but as soon as you bring that attitudes into Northerns lands, it isn't ok." Jon said plainly. "I don't care why you're doing it, but stop raiding our shores. If you can do that we'll leave you to yourselves."

"We don't answer to you kneeler. So you can take your words and fuck off back to your pretty castles." Great Walrus spat at him.

Turning his horse around, Jon and the other started their way out of the village. He wasn't in the mood to try and negotiate with a man that didn't want to hear what he had to say. So they would have to live or die with his decision.

"I'm giving you an hour to leave. If you're still here by the time we're back, I won't show you mercy. None of your women, children or elderly will be harmed. But if they try to fight, I can't promise anything.

Jon sat on the hill for the full hour, his uncle sitting next to him. He could see people moving east, there weren't a lot of them though, they must have been the elderly and the non fighters. He could also see a few warriors with them.

Turning to his uncle, he asked the question that had been plaguing him this whole time. "Why now? Why are they increasing their raids now of all time?"

"I've no idea to be honest. I've come across very few of the peaceful clans nowadays. It's like they're all disappearing, and we don't know where to. More of the rangers are going missing and their bodies disappearing." He replied. "To be honest with you Jon, the Watch is barely surviving. It's not even the supplies that we're lacking, but men."

"I'll talk to father and see what we can do to help, but for now we have a job to do."

With that the two rode back down to the men waiting for them. "Alright, we're going to head down there now, remember your orders, if they surrender you take them prisoner, but any who fight can be killed. Leave Great Walrus to me, I want him taken alive."

As they charged down towards the village they split into three groups, each coming in from different directions. To be honest it was a complete slaughter. The wildlings just couldn't deal with cavalry attacks; even though they managed to take out about ten of his men simply with arrows, the rest of his men had completely butchered the raiders.

He's battle with Great Walrus had been as underwhelming as the entire campaign so far. Winterthorn had made quick work of the man's armour, leaving him totally unprotected. The man had tried to take his head with the massive war axe, but with one slash of his blade, the axe was disconnected from the hilt, leaving him without armour and a weapon.

He had still tried to fight but Jon had made quick work of the man. With a quick slash to the back of the knee and a pommel to the head he was knocked unconscious. None of the other wildlings had surrendered so Great Walrus was their only prisoner.

They had decided to spend almost another week in the area before heading back. Riders had been sent out to look for any other villages even going as far north that they almost entered the Lands of Always Winter. But all that had returned reported the same thing, all the villages were abandoned.

He had no idea where they had gone and he didn't really care. He was getting uncomfortable staying in this place, something in his gut was telling him to turn around and return south of the wall. Something was even wrong with Ghost, he had healed enough to start walking again, but whenever he faced North he would start moaning and whimpering; and that scared him. His direwolf never howled, never mind moaning and whimpering.

When they had arrived back at the ships GreatJon and Rickard were waiting for them. They had no prisoners with them but both looked to have taken heavy losses. Almost half of their hosts were dead and the others injured. According to his second in commands both of their groups had been ambushed when they had arrived at the village. The wildlings had made them believe the villages had been abandoned before surrounding them and taking out the riders with arrows. Fortunately his father's two bannermen were quick thinkers and managed to get out of the trap and kill their enemies.

He had been gone from Winterfell for almost two moons now, and he was getting tired of this. They had lost good men because they hadn't been careful enough. But at least they had fulfilled their orders.

They had decided that he and the black brothers would take one ship up the gorge and straight to Shadow Tower while the others would dock at the point and head home. From the Shadow Tower they would ride for Castle Black, and only then would he head back to Winterfell.

The trip to Castle Black had been fairly quite. Jon had been solemn the entire trip, mind focused on those that had died, because they had been unprepared. They had assumed that the wildlings wouldn't expect the, that they wouldn't be able to cope with their cavalry, and that had cost good men their lives.

When they entered the gates of the castle Jon noticed a couple of what looked to be recruits beating on a quite fat boy who looked to be around Robb's age. He was on the ground curled in a ball as the two others kicked at him.

Jumping off of his horse he marched over to the two grabbed them by there necks and yanked them back, throwing them to the ground. Going over to the boy, he gently helped him to his feet and stepped in front of him shielding him from the others.

Looking to his left he saw Thorne staring down watching the proceedings.

"Is this what you having your recruits do now is it? Beating on helpless boys. It's a wonder the Wall is still manned." He shouted out to the Master-at-arms.

"This has nothing to do with you Stark. It's the Watch's business."

"Yeah. Who the fuck do you think you are coming here and interrupting our training session?" One of the two assholes spoke up.

He had not been having a very good week, and today just happened to be the day he decided enough was enough, so he turned back to the two, reeled his fist back and smashed it straight into the face of the one who had spoken. The moment his fist made contact the man was out, and he crumbled to the ground unconscious.

He didn't even give them time to respond to his actions before he grabbed the boy by his arm and dragged him with him towards the Lord Commander's solar.

"Why didn't you defend yourself?" He asked.

"I couldn't, I can't even hold a sword properly… I'm a craven."

"What type of man admits that his a craven?"

The boy just ducked his head in shame. Although Jon had to admit that it took, in a weird way, a lot of courage to admit that you were a craven.

"The names Jon Stark by the way."

"Samwell Tarly, but you can just call be Sam if you'd like."

So the boy was from the Reach. "Why did you join the Night's Watch if you can't even hold a sword Sam?"

Sam told him that he was the first born son of Randell Tarly, and that he had always been to soft for his father's liking. He preferred to read than to fight, and he hated violence. Supposedly his father had wanted Sam's youngest brother to be his heir, so he gave Sam a choice, join the Night's Watch and revoke his claim to Horn Hill or he would 'accidentally' die during a hunting trip.

It made Jon sick to think that parents could be so cruel to their own children. Although he had lived in Essos for so long, where that sort of attitudes were common, it still hit him to the core thinking about it.

"You should fight back. Don't let anybody control your life, if you do something, do it because you want to. If you don't want to join the Watch, then don't."

"Didn't you hear what I said. I have to otherwise my father will kill me…" Sam responded sadly.

"Sam, listen, you're in the North now. Your father can't reach you here. You haven't taken your vows so if you leave now you won't be considered a deserter."

Jon felt sorry for the boy. He could see plain as day that he wouldn't survive the Watch. Although he still held the order in high regard, there were men that would rip the Tarly heir to shreds, if he didn't try to help him it would be like he was inviting the others to kill the boy. After what he did to those men, they would come after Sam if he left him here alone and Thorne wouldn't do a damn thing to stop it. He had to at least try to help him.

"Jon, I have no where to go… if I leave the Watch and try to return to Horn Hill my father will kill me…"

He had an idea of what he could do, but he would have to get permission from a few people first.

"I'll figure something out for you Sam, just give me time. In the meanwhile, I'll ask the Lord Commander for permission for you to leave with me."

When they arrived at the Old Bear's solar, Benjen and Maester Aemon were waiting inside for them. Greeting them, he told Sam to wait behind them while he talked to the Lord Commander and the old Maester.

"Lord Commander, Maester Aemon." He said as he gave them a small bow. "On behalf of my father, I'd like to thank the Watch for the guides they provided for us. The ranging was a success and I hope you can get something from the Great Walrus. My uncle has informed me of the Watch's plight; At this moment the King should be in Winterfell, so if you send a representative with me, I'm sure he would be willing to send more help to the Wall."

"Thank you Jon. Your father's done a great deal to help the North." Jeor responded. "All the recruiters are out at the moment. Benjen you'll go and speak to your brother and the King of our cause."

"Yes Lord Commander." His uncle replied.

"My Lord, I would ask of you to allow Samwell Tarly, to leave with me to Winterfell. He was forced to join the Watch but committed no crime. I know you need every man you can get, so I'll send a few men back with uncle Benjen as reparation."

"Very well." The old lord responded gruffly.

With that they made their way out of the solar and towards the stables. His uncle had told him that he would be back soon, but he needed to go to his chambers to get something so he and Sam would go and prepare the horses before they left.

He didn't know how long the King would stay in Winterfell so they had decided to leave straight away and ride through the night. His uncle had jokingly told him that they couldn't leaves his father alone with the Lannisters.

On their way to his home Sam hadn't stopped thanking him, eventually he had told them him that if he thanked him again he would send him back to the Wall. After a few days of riding they had finally exited the section of the kingsroad that snaked through the Wolfswood, and it was then that Ghost had decided to make himself known to the group.

When they had arrived at Castle Black, the direwolf had darted away from them and towards the direction of the Wolfswood. Some of the others had been a bit worried that his direwolf and run off without him but Jon knew Ghost. Whenever he felt like it he would disappear for a few days either hunting or just exploring.

As soon as they had entered the forest Jon had felt Ghost's presence nearing them. He hadn't said anything to the others because he didn't want to frighten Sam, but once they exited the woods, Ghost had decided he had enough of following them at a distance and decided to run along side the horses.

The direwolf was still a bit injured but he was still perfectly able to keep up with the horses, running nowhere near his full speed. Jon had seen first hand how fast his partner could run, and he knew that no horse would ever be able to outrun him.

When Sam saw Ghost, Jon had almost fell off his horse in laughter at the expression on the Tarly boy's face. He looked as though his heart had given out. Jon loved watching people's reaction to seeing the direwolf, but he also realised that some people didn't appreciate being half scared to death, so with a whistle he called Ghost over to run beside him, mainly because his horse had grown used to Jon's direwolf friend.

It took them less than a day and a very long explanation to Sam about Ghost before they arrived at the fringes of Wintertown. Arriving there he noticed the number people in Wintertown were more than usual, and they all looked like southerners with their expensive clothing and armour. So he supposed the King was still here.

As they entered he saw Sansa running towards him, Dom and a small grey direwolf on her heels. Both of them had a large smile on their faces as they approached him. The small direwolf approached Ghost and gave him a bark. It was still young so it hadn't yet developed the ability to howl, for now it seemed it would bark.

In response Ghost simply gave it a long lick before chasing it towards the Godswood.

"Hi uncle Benjen, Jon. Quickly, you have to come. There's a surprise waiting for you." Sansa said excitedly.

"Dom, good to see you. This is Sam, do you mind taking him to Maester Luwin. Tell him I'll come and see him after I've seen my father and the K

She grabbed their hands and started pulling them in the direction of the First Keep. On their way there he noticed the number of Lannister soldiers that were littered around Winterfell, they outnumbered the Baratheons by quite a bit.

He didn't have time to really think anything of it because he found himself being pulled into the chambers adjacent to his wife's by his sister. Set up in middle of the room was a crib, at which his wife and surprisingly Lyarra were standing next to. Lya was holding her son, Beron who had been born shortly after the end of the tourney. In Wynafryd's arms was a small bundle with a light brown head of hair.

He's child had been born. He stood at the door frozen in shock. There were so many emotions running through him at that point, and at the forefront were Joy and happiness. He's child had finally been born, after such a long wait. He's father and sister had told him that nothing would be prepare him when he first held his child, it would be a moment that couldn't be put into words.

He had been so shocked that he hadn't even noticed Wynafryd come forward to stand in front of him.

"Jon, meet your daughter Serena." She said softly. They had both decided that if it were a boy he would be named Artos and if it were a girl she would be called Serena.

As he held his daughter, she looked right at him with big grey eyes. She had inherited the Stark eyes and light Manderly hair, but they would have to wait to see who she took after more.

"She's beautiful, Wyn. Our daughter Serena…" He uttered, still very much in shock. He leaned over and gave her a chaste kiss to the lips. He was a father now…

Soon his daughter started crying, Wyn had said she was hungry so he had told them that he and uncle Benjen needed to go see his father and the king, but they would be back by the end of the day.

Before they left he had said hello to his sister and nephew, not having seen them for quite a long time now. Lya was ten and seven now, and she was looking more and more like their mother, and it seemed that Beron had inherited her colouring as well because he had dark black hair and violet eyes, very similar to his own.

Lya and Sansa had told them that their father would be in the Great Hall with the king, having a meal before they left on a hunt.

By the time they had arrived at the entrance to the hall, Ghost had been waiting there for them. It seemed he had left the other wolves in the Godswood and returned to his master for the time being. But the direwolf was getting too big to stay in castle, so Jon had taken to letting roam free either in the Wolfswood or the Godswood.

Petting the giant wolf on the head, he nodded at the guards and made his way into the hall. Sitting at the high table were King Robert, his wife, Jon's father and Lady Catelyn. A few of the other tables were littered with some of who he guessed were members from court, as well as Northmen. Robb was sitting at a table with Theon, Asher, Torrhen and Dom. While at another table were a group of three golden haired children and a dwarf, who he guessed was Tyron Lannister.

Behind the high table stood four of the Kingsguard, hands on the pommel of the blades as they saw him walk in with Ghost.

Walking up to the high table with his uncle, while Ghost trotted over to where it seemed Robb's direwolf was laying. As the wolf walked past the tables, he could hear some of the men and women gasping and whispering to each other about the massive monster that had just walked in with the armoured men.

He and his uncle knelt before the king, head held low and said. "Your Grace."

When he beckoned for them to rise, Jon turned to his father.

"My lord, it is done. The Frozen Shore has been cleared of wildling villages, the west coast will be free from raiding for quite sometime. Unfortunately we lost almost seventy men out there. It seemed some of the villages were warned about us coming, they ambushed Lord Umber and Karstark's hosts, fortunately they were able to recover in time and deal with the situation as best they could."

"Thank you Jon. You've done well. I'll see to getting word to the families of those who died."

"Ned, what's this about." The king asked.

Turning to his old friend his father responded. "We were getting reports of more frequent raids on west coast. So I sent Jon to the Night's Watch with a proposal to launch a campaign against the wildling clans of the Frozen Shore. Jon was given a command of two hundred Northerns and a team of rangers."

The hall was silent as his father explained what he had been doing for the past two moons.

"So this is son that returned from the dead. You look just like I remember." King Robert said. "I was happy for Ned when Jon told me that there were reports that you were alive. Merchants coming to Kings Landing from White Harbour have been talking about the tourney that was held here two years ago, they say you fought like a demon. That you're just as good as your uncle, Ser Arthur Dayne, with the sword. That true?"

"Apart from you your grace, my uncle was the greatest warrior of his generation. I can't compare myself to him yet."

"Bullshit, I my not have liked the man because of who he aligned with, but I respected him. I barely beat Rhaegar Targaryen at the Trident, and The Sword of the Morning was a lot stronger than the 'Last Dragon'. The only man that could compare to Dayne is that man there, Ser Barristan the Bold." As he said this he pointed behind him to one of the Kingsguard standing behind him. "How about you compare your blade to his. I'm sure it would be a spectacle to see if all the rumours are true?"

"I would be honoured to spar with Ser Barristan your grace, but unfortunately I've spent quite a long time travelling and simply have no energy. If your grace doesn't mind, perhaps Ser Barristan would agree to face me once you have returned from your hunt?"

Looking to Commander of his Kingsguard the king spoke. "What say you Ser, will you agree to fight Ned's boy?"

Ser Barristan nodded his head. "I would be honoured to face the nephew of Ser Arthur in combat your grace."

"Very well then, once we've returned from the hunt, the two of you will face each other."

Looking to his father, he saw a look of pride on his face. "Father if that was all, I'd like to clean up and get some rest?" When he's father gave a nod of consent, he bowed before him an the king before turning around to his uncle.

"Uncle Benjen, I'll see you later." He said as he gave his uncle a handshake. "Ghost! Come."

As he made he's way out, his faithful direwolf followed on his heel. He would let the wolf out into Godswood before he got some rest.

After seeing his daughter and wife, he immediately hit the hay. That sleep was the first proper rest he had gotten since leaving Winterfell, and he had sorely underestimated how exhausted he was. When he woke up a day and a half had passed, and the guards said that the Kings party should be on their way back to Winterfell, which meant he had a fight to prepare for.

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	8. Tyrion I

**Tyrion I**

 **298 AC**

Tyrion had to admit that the North was not what he had expected, he had heard all sorts of tales about it. Some said that it was a desolated frozen wasteland, while others told of a wild beauty that held large cities that had sprung up in the last twenty years. He was inclined to believe latter rumours considering that Winterfell suddenly had quite a big city surrounding it. Nowhere near as large as the five main cities of Westeros, but still big.

The moment they had entered the Neck and seen Moat Cailin, he knew that the North would not be what they thought of it. The massive fortress was completely rebuilt, twenty towers the surrounded the large stone keep. Some of the towers were built on small islands that sat in the bogs, connected to the body of the Moat via long stone bridges, it was a frightening sight if he were honest.

The North was the largest of the Seven Kingdoms and perhaps the most well defended, they could hold off any invasion from the Moat, and if the rumours were true, they know had two port cities, one on each coast. They were protected from both land and sea.

When they exited the Neck, he had been at a loss of words. There were rolling frosted fields that ran for as far as the eyes could see, he was pretty sure he even saw a few herds of hairy cows grazing in the fields. He had never seen anything like the animal before, it was large, almost as big as a bear, and it had large horns protruding from their heads.

He knew that only the North could boast about having a land this wild and free. All of the other kingdoms were too populated, even the Westerlands had too many mountains to be considered this breathtaking.

If he thought that he couldn't be shocked after spending almost two weeks in Winterfell, he was wrong. He had seen the supposed direwolves that Ned Stark's children were said to have tamed, he was impressed that they had pet wolves, but they didn't look all that threatening if he honest with himself.

But then he had seen that white monster walk into the Great Hall. The direwolf companion of Jon Stark, heir to the North. The thing was almost the size of a horse, with completely white fur and claws that looked like the it could rip them to shreds with one slash. The most unnerving thing about the direwolf was its eyes.

When the doors to the hall had been opened he had looked towards it to see who had entered. When he saw the wolf, he could have sworn that it had looked him straight in the eyes with, red gaze piercing his soul. There had been an intelligence in those eyes that a wolf shouldn't have. It astounded him.

Growing up, he had always loved the tales of dragons. He wanted to learn all that he could about them, wanted to learn their history and where they originated from. Which tales were true and which were lies. It had been his passion. Reading in general had been his passion. Other than to boast about pissing off the top of the Wall, he also wanted to see their library. It was said that Castle Black held books that even the Citadel never had.

He had also been lucky enough to be granted access to Winterfell's collection of tomes. Maester Luwin had told him that Jon Stark had come into possession of all the books that once occupied the Nightfort's library. That was how he found himself chasing after the heir to the North.

"Jon Stark!" He called out to the retreating man. When he turned around Tyrion continued. "If you don't mind I'd like a moment of your time?"

"Of course Lord Tyrion, I just need to put Ghost out." Jon replied to him, as the direwolf walked next to him.

Tyrion decided he would follow the two, wanting to get a closer at the animal that the rest of the realm believed extinct. "If you don't mind me asking. How did you tame this direwolf? It seems to obey your every order."

"A direwolf is of the North my lord, they cannot be tamed and any man that believes they can be soon find themselves dead. He might listen to me but in the end he is a wild animal."

As he said this the Stark moved his hand and rested it over the wolf's head, ruffling the fur underneath his hand. When they reached the gate to the Godswood, Jon opened them and allowed Ghost to sprint off into the shadows of the woods.

"Maester Luwin tells me that you've come into possession of books from the Nightfort. Is this true?" He asked.

"It is. I asked Lord Commander Mormont if he was willing to part with the tomes, and he agreed that for a certain fee, he would be willing to part with them. They now reside in my personal library."

"I was wondering if perhaps you would allow me the chance to have a look through some of them? I've heard there are books in those collections that even the Citadel do now possess."

"You like to read Tyrion Lannister?"

"Look at me, and tell me what you see." He told the man. "I'm a dwarf, I can't fight in tourneys or lead men on the battle field. But I can read and I can learn. I have a realistic grasp of my own strengths and weaknesses. My mind is my weapon. My brother has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer, and I have my mind… and a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge. So yes Jon Stark, I like to read, very much so." He said.

"You're a strange man Tyrion Lannister." Jon said looking him in the eyes. "I've been all around the known world and I have met very few men willing to admit their own weakness."

"Yes well, I learnt a long time ago that its better to admit your weakness and move past it, then to allow others to use it against you."

"I like you Lannister. Come, follow me to the library."

With that he followed Jon as he took him towards the squat drum tower decorated with stone gargoyles. He was led into the building taken up to the third floor. Entering one of the doors he was greeted with the sight of a large room filled with ancient looking tomes and scrolls.

"I don't think I need to tell you this, but please be careful with the older material. These are the only copies in the world, if they rip or tear, there are no replacements."

"Don't worry Stark, I'll treat them as if they were my own children." He replied with a smirk.

The man returned the smirk and started making his way out of the room. Before he closed the door, he looked back at Tyrion. "If you decided to spend the night, there are chambers next to this room. Also if you'd like, you'll find a few bottles of wine or ale on the first floor, through the unlocked door."

"Thank you Jon." He called out to the retreating figure. Simply getting a wave from the man in reply.

Looking around the room, he realised that he had absolutely no idea where to start. Eventually deciding he would pick a random book and start from there, he made his way over to one of the older looking tomes and picked it up.

'Origins of the Wall' by the Rodrik Frost. Seemed like a good start, so with that he sat himself at one of the tables and opened the book.

Except when he slept, he had spent almost three days in that library. On the second day, a boy by the name of Samwell Tarly had joined him. He said that Jon had sent him to start making copies of the oldest scrolls and tomes in the library, which he was all to happy to do.

The two had started to get to know each other, and Tyrion had to say that the Tarly boy was quite weak minded and craven. He had tried taking the piss out of the boy, as he did, but he had not reacted to Tyrion at all, only taking the playful jabs, never firing back.

When he had asked how the heir to House Tarly had ended up in Winterfell, the boy told him his story, and he had to admit that he felt a sort of kinship with him. Both of their father's refused to accept them as their heirs and would of thought nothing of it if they died. Although at least his father never openly threatened to kill him.

He had spent so much time in the library that he hadn't even visited the Wintertown brothel in almost a week and a half.

Now though he stood next to his brother as they prepared to watch a fight between Jon Stark and Ser Barristan Selmy. Tyrion had seen the old knight fight, he could still beat Jaime in his old age, and Jaime was one of the best swords in Westeros. He didn't know how well the Stark heir fought, but he was quite certain that he wouldn't be able to keep up with the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

They had decided to simply hold the fight in the training yard of Winterfell, so as not to make a scene about it, although in he's opinion, judging by the number of people standing around them, that plan failed.

All the current Kingsguard that had travelled with them were standing around, Cersei and the kids were seated on small seats next to the temporary throne that had been erected for Robert. To his left sat Ned Stark with his family and a few of the men that he had seen hanging around with Robb Stark, the Greyjoy boy and the other one he did not know.

The two fighters were both suited in armour, though Jon had decided to forgo a helmet while Ser Barristan was decked out in his Kingsguard armour. They had both chosen to fight with a shield and sword. While Jon Stark used the same shield as the guards he had seen patrolling the castle grounds, the old knight was armoured with his white shield.

"Ser Barristan, since this is a friendly spar, first blood wins?" The Stark heir called out to his opponent. When he received a nod of consent, both parties made to unsheathe their blades. The moment that Jon's sword slipped from the its cover he heard the crowd gasp in surprise.

He could not believe what he was seeing. House Stark had another Valyrian Steel blade. He knew that they were in possession of Ice, their ancestral greatsword, but he had no idea that they held a longsword as well. The hilt of the sword was made up of iron cross guards in the shape of wolf heads and a white pommel in the shape of a direwolf with purple garnets as eyes.

The blade itself was the length of a standard longsword, and contained the characteristic veins of Valyrian Steel. But in this blade the veins were an ice blue that almost made the blade looked as though it were glowing when the light hit it.

He could hear his insufferable nephew pestering his mother about getting him the blade. House Baratheon, nor House Lannister could boast owning an ancestral Valyrian Steel sword, and although the King had just won a dagger from Baelish, it was not it in the same league as a sword.

Once both fighters were in position, Ser Rodrik Cassel stepped forward. He would be presiding of the duel, ready to step in if either fighter went to far. "Begin!" He's voice rang over the yard.

At once both swordsmen dashed towards each other, blades meeting in the middle, a hissing noise washing over the area as the metals fought for dominance. Jon allowed his sword to be pushed back and brought his shield up, smashing it against Ser Barristan's own. They separated, and started circling one another like predators looking for the kill. The fight hadn't been going on for long, but Tyrion could already feel the atmosphere that these two were creating. Their mere presences were fighting against each other, each pushing for dominance over the other.

Again they struck, swords ringing against each other's shield. For almost thirty minutes this continued. The two would go at each other and end up retreating. At some point Jon had discarded his shield, and was now fighting with virtually no protection save his armour.

It was mesmerising watching the two fight. Stark was flowing in and out of his opponent's reach, landing more and more hits on the old man's armour, almost as though he were dancing. He could hear the small Stark children cheering for their brother, they were standing up, hands in the air as they watched him go toe to toe with a living legend.

Tyrion had come to watch this match with the idea that Jon Stark would not stand a chance against Barristan the Bold, but here he was, half an hour into the match, weaving in and out of his opponent's attacks, slowly getting more and more hits in.

What happened next shocked him and everybody around him, even the young man's family by the looks of it. Jon switched sword hands and started attacking with a ferocity that was previously absent, he was increasing in speed and power like a man possessed, not giving Ser Barristan a chance to regain his footing. Gripping his sword with two hands, he brought it down in a horizontal slash, aiming to knock his opponent back into a stagger and finish the match.

When Ser Barristan brought his sword up in an attempt at softening the blow, the swords met with a clang, and the next thing he knew half of the Kingsguard's sword was buried in the ground next to him. The sword had been shattered and broken in half, leaving Ser Barristan with a blade just larger than a dagger.

But that was all he needed, while Jon was looking in shock at what he had done, the old knight used the opportunity to lunge out and slash at the Stark heir. Trying to dodge the incoming blade, Jon ducked and made to back up but what ended up happing was him getting slashed in the face with Ser Barristan's blade.

The moment the blade made contact with his face, the crowd let out a gasp of shock. The future Warden of the North had been maimed badly. Even Ser Barristan had dropped his blade in shock at what had happened. Around him he could hear various voices shouting out Jon's name in worry. When the Stark heir lifted he's head, Tyrion saw that the blade had just missed the eye, the cut had begun above the brow, and continued down to his cheek bone. It wasn't too deep or thick from what he could see, but it would definitely scar over.

He saw Jon's wife Wynafryd with their daughter rush over calling out to her husband, pleading for him to be okay. Behind her came the Stark children and the small group that hung around with them.

Maester Luwin was knelt down infront of Jon, dabbing at the wound, trying to clean away the blood, when Ser Barristan went over.

"My lord, forgive me. I never intended to…"

Before he could finish, Jon interrupted the old knight with a deep laugh that shocked all who stood by. "Nonsense! Here I was thinking I could take on the legendary Ser Barristan the Bold. I will carry this scar with pride! A reminder of this moment, for the rest of my life."

"Thank you my lord." Ser Barristan responded humbly. "I have to say, you remind me much of my old comrade. It seems you've inherited his way with a sword and his ferocity."

"I don't remember much of my uncle, but what he taught me will never be forgotten. I remember him training me in the training yard outside the White Sword Tower. Watching him spar with Ser Oswell, was one of the most memorable fights I have seen." Jon said, face lost in memories. "I just hope I can make him proud."

"Knowing Arthur, he would be extremely proud of you, of how far you've progressed."

They were about to break apart and all head off to do their own business, when he saw his insufferable nephew making his way over to the Stark heir, the hound not far behind. Looking around the courtyard he noticed most of the spectators, including Lord Stark and the King after they had a quick word with Jon, had dispersed. Hoping to stop his idiotic prince from doing anything stupid, he made his way over to the small group surrounding Jon. On his way, he swore he could hear a pounding noise coming from the direction of the Godswood but decided to ignore it in favour of dealing with Joffrey.

"You fought well Jon Stark, but I assure you, against me you would have found more difficulty." Joffrey's arrogant voice rang out as he approached the group. Tyrion almost burst into laughter at that statement. His nephew was about as good with a sword as he was, and he didn't fancy himself winning against the average fighter.

"I'm sure my prince." Jon replied with a poorly concealed smirk. "I hope to never have to face you in battle, for I would surely lose."

Joffrey didn't seem to notice that he was being mocked because he puffed his chest and opened his mouth to speak. "Yes…yes. Good to see you acknowledge your betters. That sword of yours. I want it. I would greatly appreciate if it was given to me a show of fealty to your next king."

He almost face palmed at that. His nephew seemed to think that because he was crown prince, he was entitled to anything and everything he set his eyes upon. He's mother and father had failed to teach the boy that even a king can't have everything he wants.

"I'm afraid that I have to refuse you Prince Joffrey. This sword is very rare and belongs to House Stark." Jon's face hardened as he said this. All the while the younger Starks and Wynafryd grew increasingly worried.

Tyrion could see it on their faces. The look of worry as Jon denied the prince grew as the conversation went on. Again he heard the pounding sound close to the side gate of the Godswood, but once again thought nothing of it.

"Joffrey." He called out to his nephew. "The sword belongs to Jon and House Stark. You cannot demand them to give it to you."

"Quiet Imp!" Joffrey responded with a sneer. "One day I will be king, and to disobey your king is treason."

"Yes it is." Jon said, voice evidently tired. "But you are not yet king. Has your father ever told you about the last time a prince took something he wasn't supposed to?"

Even he didn't expect the Stark heir to leave that question hanging in the air like that, and judging by everybody else's expressions, neither did they. It seemed Joffrey actually understood the he was being threatened, which he didn't appreciate because he turned to Sandor Clegane, face red with anger.

"Dog! Stark has just threatened me! Show him what happens when you cross those of royal blood."

Sandor grunted and moved to unsheathe his sword. Tyrion was getting worried now, would the hound really enforce his masters commands with children and babies around. He knew the man was savage, but to do this… he thought Sandor was better than his brother, but it would appear not.

Seeing Wynafryd and the younger children slowly backing away, while the men made to draw their own swords. Before he could step forward to try and stop what was about to happen, a loud bang of snapping wood filled the air. Before his eyes a white blur raced past and crashed into Clegane, slamming him to the ground. Behind the large white blur followed five smaller bodies, all racing towards the Starks and their group, placing themselves between the two parties.

It was the direwolves, Ghost had managed to brake down the small wooden gate and was currently snapping his jaws at the downed man. Looking to his nephew, he saw two of the direwolves advancing on the boy, snarling at him.

"Stop! Away you foul beasts!" Jeffery cowered, backing up until his back was against the walls of the armoury.

"Greywind! Nymeria! Stop!" Robb Stark's voice rung out, causing the two direwolves to back away from Joffrey, leaving the boy cowering against the wall. As soon as the wolves were far enough away, the prince shot out of clearing, most probably on his way to nag to Cersei. Tyrion knew that nothing good would come of this. He's sister would make sure that her favourite child got what he wanted, even if it meant making enemies with one of the strongest houses in the seven Kingdoms.

"Ghost! To me." Jon called out as he's direwolf released the large Clegane man, and bounded over to his master. "Ser Sandor, forgive me, Ghost gets protective when there is a threat."

"I'm not a fucking knight…" Sandor grumbled, lifting himself up and walking away.

"Forgive my nephew Jon, he is young and brash." Tyrion spoke up. "But you should be careful with your words, one day they could land you in a lot of trouble."

Jon gave a tired nod at his words, understanding what he did wasn't exactly the smartest of ideas. With that over, Jon, his wife and daughter and Tyrion all made their way to the First Keep.

They would be leaving for King's Landing soon, while he travelled to the Wall, so he wanted to spend as much time reading the books Jon had graciously given him access to before he left Winterfell.

The rest of the time he spent at Winterfell had was fairly uneventful. Majority of his time was spent in the library or at the brothel. He would be travelling for quite a long time, so he had decided to quench his 'thirst' as much as possible before he set off. After all, he never knew when he might see another woman, for all he knew it might have been his last night on this earth.

Ned Stark would be leaving with the king and his court to King's Landing. It had been announced that their houses would join through young Brandon Stark and Mrycella. Once the two were of age they would be married and granted land from which they would rule from. According to rumours, Robert had originally wanted to join the two houses through Joffrey and Sansa, but the Stark girl was already betrothed, and the youngest daughter wouldn't be forced to marry anyone she didn't want.

So Lord Stark had proposed a match between his second youngest son, and Robert and Cersei's only daughter. Of course the king had said yes to his old friend. The marriage would link together some of the most powerful houses in Westeros.

He found himself atop a horse next to Benjen Stark looking behind as his family went one way and he the other, the grey direwolf banner fluttering in the wind from the tall towers of on of the oldest castles in the realm.

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 **Hey there guys, we are coming up to the one year anniversary of this story and I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has supported me in my endeavour to write this. I know I haven't kept my promise of regular updates, but I promise I will finish this story and it will never be abandoned.**

 **At the moment I'm finding it difficult to set aside time to work on it, but I promise I will try to give you guys something more. As for this chapter, I wanted to show that although Jon has inherited the fighting skills of both sides of his family, he is not invincible. As for what he looks like at this stage, just imagine season 7 Jon from the show but with violet eyes and less solemn at this moment.**

 **Next chapter will be the beginning of the war and the mustering of the various armies of Westeros. Again I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has supported this story, I never believed that it would gain the follows and favourites that it has, but you guys are amazing, so until next time.**


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